Line of Fire
by Nevermore-x
Summary: They told her to be careful. Maybe, if she had listened, things would have been different for her. But as Gotham stands on the brink of its own demise, the thin line between good and evil shrinks beneath her feet and all she has to keep her sanity is a journal and the chance that words could very well set the world on fire. "So you're the little lady with the big words…"
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, guys! Thanks ahead of time for giving this a chance! This is actually going to be my second story on this site, but my first for Batman. I absolutely fell in love with the Nolan-verse Batman trilogy after watching it and adoring it so many times that after watching The Dark Knight Rises, I just had to start a story for it. Now, this chapter is the first and it's more like a trial chapter, as in I'd like to see what people think of the idea, before I continue posting. It's going to be a bit more serious and meticulously done than some other stuff I've done on my own, so please NO FLAMES but I do accept constructive criticism when it comes around because I know how people can be and I swear I will try to be open-minded.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing of the Batman/Dark Knight film. All of its affiliates are not mine either...Just Lucy…she's mine.**

**Please Enjoy!**

Chapter 1:

Beneath the looming skyscrapers and the slowly setting sun, the small, thin figure of a young Lucy Blake walked with swift steps out of the hub of Gotham City. She didn't live there, not among the rich and the privileged at least. The only reason she made the trek toward the downtown area almost every single day was for the on-going hunt she had to find a company that would hire her for a journalism job or simple writing position. But on one or more occasions had the newspaper and magazine companies turned her away after hearing of her young age or simply because they laughed at her goals that were apparently too high for her to reach. However, this never kept her from going back every day nor did it actually bother her that they turned her away. Lucy was fully aware of the real reason they rejected her.

Gotham City had been quiet. Quiet for eight years straight, to be exact.

So with no major crime fallouts or visits from their famed, caped crusader, the most newspapers can report are petty crimes or shifts in the stock market, both of which, writing editors were convinced Lucy could not handle.

On that note, for the fifth time that week, Lucy trudged to the small apartment she called home and shared with her older brother John, a newcomer, albeit hotheaded, police officer for the GPD. With John's rather sparing salary, their apartment wasn't much. It was situated on the first floor of an old, brick building in the quieter, middle-class oriented part of town. Luckily for Lucy, it was no more than a twenty or thirty minute walk from downtown that she could easily make on her own.

When she arrived, she trotted up the front steps of the building and let herself in, peering upwards as she heard the faint sounds of children running down the hallway upstairs, creaking doors opening and closing and the scratchy voices of the old couple in muffled conversation. Shrugging to herself as this was the norm, Lucy fished her keys out of her messenger bag and let herself into apartment 104A, only throwing the lock on the door knob and the dead bolt, but left the chain undone so it was easier on John when he got home.

Their apartment itself, now that Lucy looked at it, was humble and modest in every sense of the word. It was clean and held the few pieces of furniture she and John had picked out before moving in. No glamour or unnecessary decor sat on their walls, save for a few picture frames that captured the few happier times they had.

And for Lucy Blake, those times were very scarce.

In her seventeen years of life, she had witnessed too many dark times. Orphaned at a young age, she watched as Gotham City nearly tore itself apart and fall into the hands of crime and chaos, only to be saved by a masked vigilante who seemingly disappeared years ago. Had she remembered who her parents were or where she really came from, maybe she would have been more optimistic through the turmoil, seeing as she would have more reasons to believe there was still some good in the world. But that is where John Blake comes in.

When Lucy met John Blake, she was six years old and was being claimed as a Ward of the State. He, at the time, was pushing seventeen years old with an intention to make something of himself as soon as he was able to leave his boys' home. But when the orphanage across the street gained a new addition in the childlike form of Lucy Chambers—her old former family name—John found himself easily attached to the little girl, and she to him, and did what he could to protect and guide her, as her naivety at the time did nothing to help her understand her situation. Needless to say, when the time came for John to leave his boys' home, he made a promise that he wouldn't leave Lucy behind. So in light of that, after John completed four years at the community college and became of legal age, the first thing he wished to do, aside from become an officer of the GPD, was to adopt Lucy into his family.

And years later, it went without saying that both of those endeavors were successful.

Now presently, Lucy walked further into their apartment, toward their living room and tossed her bag haphazardly onto the pull-out couch, accidentally dropping it on the television remote. Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin as their small TV set turned on, its volume loudly pervading the former silence of the apartment. She dove for the remote to lower the volume but stopped short at the sight of the current newscast.

"…_Ongoing manhunt for the recently disappeared Congressman,"_ The announcer stated as a photo of said Congressman appeared onscreen.

Lucy's attention and interest were immediately raised. She somehow swiftly maneuvered herself over the back of the couch and sat down, digging out her leather journal and pencil out of her bag while she turned the volume up as the announcer continued with their details.

"_Police claim the Congressman went missing last night after he failed to return home after attending anniversary party at the Wayne Mansion, in honor of Gotham's fallen hero, Harvey Dent…"_

Lucy's hand that was scribbling away with the announcer's facts instantly stilled at the mention of Harvey Dent. She had forgotten that yesterday was the first day of Gotham's own declared holiday of Dent Day. How she could have forgotten was beyond her, as everyone had been discussing it (for lack of better news) for awhile now. But it was ironic, in Lucy's eyes that the Congressman would go missing on the day that marked possibly the end of organized crime in Gotham. Who's to say this wasn't a sign that organized crime was not yet over? However, that seemed unlikely seeing as every criminal involved in the organized crime circle was locked away in Blackgate Prison, in accordance to the Dent Act.

But even that didn't prevent Lucy from noting her speculations on the missing Congressman in her journal.

Lucy attempts to be as updated on the city-wide news as much as she can be, even keeping profiles on public figures, like the Wayne family or Commissioner Gordon, for extra brownie points. She chose to keep note of these things, in hopes that her collection of personally gathered observations would give her some upper hand in nabbing a job. But as it has been mentioned before, the Dent Act has cleaned up the streets so much so that journalists have to scrounge around till the slightest infringement on the Dent Act or general law appears, and when it does, they have to grab the details as they come. But being detailed was something Lucy was good at, especially now considering she was in desperate need of something more interesting to report about instead of the stock market numbers, as those happen to be the things of interest lately. Lucy, on the other hand, always pinned the stock market as a rather droll subject for her.

So with a few last pencil flourishes and scratch outs, Lucy completed her notes, along with her personal annotations, of the recent news. However, she was only partially satisfied, as she knew that you could only get so much out of the censorship of the GCN. Lucy just knew that she'd have to wait till John got home to ask for any more updates that she didn't already know.

With that in mind and a sigh escaping her lips, Lucy shut her journal and reclined on the couch cushions. On the TV screen, the newscast had gone bland to the visual tastes and after some flipping through the other channels, Lucy realized that blandness was the uniformity in the Gotham TV stations. She shut the TV off then and tossed the remote onto the coffee table. Her arm folded underneath her head like a pillow and a yawn found its way to her lips, before she fell into a calming nap.

It was the sound of locks sliding from their bolts that roused Lucy from her sleep some time later. Barely waking, she rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up, as the front door opened and the rookie officer, John Blake, came through the door.

"John?" Lucy yawned, looking through fairly sleep-blurred eyesight to see the general shape of John walking in.

"Yeah, it's me, Lu." John greeted, using her nickname that reassured that it was him. "Did I wake you?"

Lucy shook her head as she stretched. "No, not really. I was just taking a short nap for an hour or so."

"Hour or so? Lucy, it's already nine-thirty." He informed her, pointing at his watch for extra emphasis.

Lucy looked out the window, where, sure enough, night was falling upon Gotham City. She always thought it was incredibly strange: how no matter the progression of the day, Gotham's skies always tend to darken earlier than most.

"I brought dinner. Wasn't sure if you had eaten anything yet." John said, interrupting her small musings about the rising and setting sun in Gotham.

Lucy turned away from the window at the sound of food, her stomach also responding to the call with a growl. But while she looked up, noting the pizza box in his hands, she also noted that we was rather damp-looking and had led a small trail of water from the front door to where he stood in their small kitchen.

"Why are you…wet?" She asked still sounding a bit drowsy which partly convinced her that maybe her eyes were just playing with her. But after opening her eyes a bit more, her eyes started to pick out the details of his current state.

His tall, lanky body that was often bogged down unattractively beneath layers of his GPD uniform was indeed soaked through and through. His dark hair was slowly following out of its gelled back style to frame his pallid, weary looking face, while drips of water fell off of him and onto the floor.

"About that. It's nothing, really." He said, taking a look at himself. "Just had a run through the outflows of the sewers, that's all."

"I'm assuming there's a good reason you were at the outflows in the first place, let alone the Narrows." Lucy said, recalling the fact that the outflows were on the outskirts of the Narrows and she learned from John himself that no police officer went to the Narrows unless in teams of four.

"We were following up on the disappearance of the Congressman." John explained, stripping his jacket off and wringing it out over the kitchen sink, before hanging it on one of the cabinet doors to dry.

Lucy perked up at the mention of that and sat up a bit taller. "Oh! I saw that on the news today. So did you find him?"

"Oh, we found him alright."

"But…in the Narrows?" Lucy clarified with him.

John nodded. "As crazy as it sounds, yes."

"A funny place to find a Congressman, don't you think?" Lucy said, trying and failing to envision one of Gotham's influential public figures in any proximity to the Narrows.

"I'm with you on that one, Lu. But it did give us another lead. Somewhere down in the sewer lines."

Lucy's eyebrows knitted together as she remembered hearing an awful lot of things concerning the sewers nowadays form kids and just people she walks by in the streets and alleys. Apparently, according to rumor, the sewers had become the new black market of Gotham, offering odd jobs and objects here and there. Of course, it's all supposition that Lucy hears, but when there are orphans and people disappearing into the sewers and only a few come out short of alive at the outflows, Lucy won't leave that to speculate, even if the authorities is convinced it's nothing.

"So did you find anything down there?" Lucy asked, now wanting to hear more than what just occurred with the Congressman.

"I didn't. But Commissioner Gordon went down there." John told her, while he set out plates on their kitchen table.

"And?" Lucy asked, anticipating some climactic elaboration of the story.

John stopped what he was doing. He looked like he was about to answer, but he was shaking his head as if he were also puzzled by what went on down there.

"I don't know exactly, Lu. But I know that Commissioner Gordon went in with a team of four SWAT team members and came out alone, almost unconscious, and at the outflows." He stated in a straightforward way before detouring onto a lighter subject for a moment as he pointed to the food. "Come on, get some dinner."

Lucy got up from the couch, but her questions didn't cease, as her curiosity was only beginning to be engaged.

"Is the Commissioner, alright?" Lucy asked, genuinely concerned for the man who had been half responsible for the huge Dent Act clean-up. From what John has told her and what she can fathom from the newscasts, he appears to be a true patron for the good of Gotham, despite some of his methods being a bit different than the norm. But it got the job done. So no one questioned it.

"He suffered a gunshot or two, but the man has seen worse days. But when I pulled him out, he was mumbling on and on about some army and a man in a mask." John said, sounding partly skeptical, while a part of him sounds like it expresses some belief in Commissioner Gordon's words.

True, at first, hearing the words, Lucy would think that the Commissioner wasn't in his right mind. But then again, this is Gotham and crazier things have happened.

"What do you think? Believe him?" Lucy asked John.

John sighed as he sat down across from her, roughly combing his hands through his hair.

"I don't know, Lu. The deputy commissioner thinks Commissioner Gordon was too disoriented to be logical and that I may possibly nuts." He admitted, knowing that the force hardly ever recognized the opinions, of the younger officers, himself in this case, which is why he may be acting so unsure of himself.

"But, he did mumble something that made some sort of sense."

"Which was?"

John looked up from his plate and squarely into her eyes, saying with solid sureness, "Batman."

Lucy felt like she was briefly uplifted. The name that now brought accusatory eyes and comments around Gotham was anything but accusatory in the eyes of the Blake siblings. Contrary to what majority of the citizens and authorities believe, John and Lucy were convinced that Batman wouldn't have disappeared the way he did, not after everything he's done for Gotham. They were among the few that still believed, the Commissioner also being one of them, which is why John and Lucy still find some glimmer of hope in hearing the Commissioner even mumble the name of Batman after eight long, silent years.

After the mention of Batman, they continued dinner in silence, as both Lucy and John had receded into their own muddled jumble of thoughts concerning the Batman. When they finished, John picked up the plates and washed them, while Lucy returned to the couch where her journal sat waiting for her to return with a pencil in hand.

"Do you want the bed tonight, Lu?" John asked above the sound of the running water in the sink.

Lucy turned around and quickly declined the offer. "You can have the bedroom tonight. You look like you need a good nights' rest."

This certain arrangement was created for the reason that their apartment was only a one bedroom apartment, so they alternated, respectively of course. And after seeing and hearing what John had experienced tonight on the job, Lucy knew that obligated him to the bedroom privileges for tonight.

_Besides, the pull out couch isn't so bad._ She thought to herself.

However, in return for John getting bedroom privileges tonight, Lucy was allowed to use the single bathroom first. She made her bathroom trip quick, showering enough to wash away the dirt and trials of the day. Feeling clean and refreshed, Lucy returned to the living room where John was in the process of fixing up the pull out bed for her. She stopped at the entrance of the living room, pausing her movements of towel drying her black hair, as she shed a grateful smile at John's brotherly tendencies.

"John, I can take it from here." Lucy entered the living room and took the sheets he was unfolding into her own hands. "Go shower, please. 'Sewer Rats' is not an appealing after scent."

John gave a light hearted chuckle at the girl he was glad to call his sister and ruffled her damp hair before obliging her request. Because he has to admit, he didn't smell or look too lovely.

John left the room and Lucy finished making up her bed. When she heard the shower turn on, was when Lucy sat down and took up her journal again. She swiftly took down all that was discussed earlier, moving through several pages at a time. Unfortunately the more she wrote, the more she became enthralled in her own head and personal questions that Lucy didn't hear the shower stop or notice John standing behind her, reading over her shoulder.

"Writing again?" He suddenly asked, making Lucy flinch in surprise and slam her journal shut.

Lucy looked up at him, her hand on her chest to calm herself. But she saw the concern hiding behind his casual expression. Lucy was aware that John was always wary of things she wrote. It wasn't that he didn't support her advanced writing skills, after all he gave her that very journal she was writing in for that very reason, but it was subjects of which she wrote that concerned him. He believed that a girl her age should not concern herself with the serious or darker sides of Gotham, let alone keep a record of it all. But John knew he couldn't stop her, she was naturally observant, often times, too observant for her own good.

"Er…yeah, I was." Lucy said, fingering the cover of her journal.

John nodded his head, not wanting to question her further rather he patted her on the head and placed a small, almost father-like kiss on her head.

"Well, put it away. It's late and we both should get some sleep." John said, playing his proper role as her guardian.

Lucy nodded her head obediently and even added a mock salute. "Sir, yes sir!"

John smiled at her antics and let her get settled into bed on her own, while he went to the kitchen to grab a glass of water before he hit the sack. He quickly filled a glass and returned to the living room, where Lucy had situated herself underneath her blankets and had yet to let go of her journal.

"Good night, Lu." He said with a warm smile, as Lucy returned the response in the same manner. He gave one more sweep of the room to make sure things were in place before he reached for the light switch, with the intention to turn it off, but paused as Lucy suddenly spoke out.

"Wait!" John turned to her questioningly. Lucy looked down at her lap for a moment, seeming hesitant at first but eventually was able to just say what she had been pondering for a while since the subject came up. "John, do you think he'll ever come back? Batman, I mean. It's been eight years, I realize that. But do you think that there's a chance that he'd…" Her voice trailed off, sounding meek and almost like a child praying in hope, but her face was the tell-tale portrait of how long she'd been keeping this question inside.

John mirrored her earlier movement of looking down, because that somehow seemed the best way to contemplate things. This question wasn't hard to answer. It was either yes or no, he knew that and perhaps, so did Lucy. So he answered her in the way he deemed appropriate.

"He'll come when we need him. He always has." John said, with a set conviction because that's what he believed to be true. He's believed it for years since before he was Lucy's age, might as well relay it to Lucy.

Lucy only nodded her head, silently accepting his answer.

"Go to sleep, Lu. See you in the morning." John said, trying to end the night on a different note.

He flicked off the lights, after sending Lucy another reassuring smile, but Lucy was anything but tired at the moment. She believed John when he said that Batman would return when they needed him. But she had decided to keep it to herself that part of her, the part in the pit of her stomach where gut feelings tend to reside, felt like that time was approaching, and very soon at that.

With those foreboding thoughts swirling in her head, Lucy curled up underneath her blankets and willed herself to sleep, unknowingly clutching her journal to her chest, as if it were her comfort item to ward off nightmares.

Nightmares of cities burning to ash underneath the hand of a menacing, masked man.

**Please feel free to tell me what you think, believe, like, dislike, suggest etc. And just an extra side note, I got this idea the second time I went to go watch TDKR and I was waiting at a Starbucks with my journal and I just started to write…I pray it goes somewhere good **


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey, everybody! I would like to give a big thank you to those people who gave my first chapter a chance and favorited my story or is now following it! Unfortunately no reviews yet, but I will post this next chapter anyways because I do have some general plan for this story. Now, I realize that this isn't a romance where my character falls in love with John Blake (which is weird because he is her brother in this story) or has a case of Stockholm Syndrome for Bane. But I will say that her relationship to Bane is going to be something a little bit different I hope…when I get there I hope it will be clear…**

**Anyhoots! As usual, I do not own anything of the Nolan-verse Batman trilogy or his characters and plot line.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 2:

"Oh! Lucy Blake, such a fresh face to have back around here!" Mrs. Wilkins, the sweet, old women who worked the secretarial desk of St. Cecilia's Home for Orphans, greeted Lucy, as she came into the old, almost antiquated building that she once lived in.

Lucy smiled warmly at the woman and gave polite wave. She hadn't necessarily planned on making a visit to her former orphanage, but when she left the apartment this morning, she didn't necessarily have a fixed destination, as her mind was wandering elsewhere, and had somehow taken a detour towards the street where both St. Cecilia's and St. Swithin's—John's boys' home—were located. And when she unknowingly arrived at the front steps of St. Cecilia's, she figured a friendly visit was in place. This was one of the few places Lucy actually went to see people and not have to write anything about it.

"Hi, Mrs. Wilkins! How is everything faring on over here?" Lucy asked, walking up to the desk.

Mrs. Wilkins nodded her head towards a small stack of bills on the edge of her desk and sighed. "We're managing. But how are you? It was just a few days ago that I saw your dear brother making a stop at St. Swithin's."

"Oh, I'm doing just fine, thank you, and John did tell me he stopped by for a visit, wanting to make sure things were okay with the boys and Father Reilly." Lucy said, purposely leaving out the fact that when John came home that day he had informed her that one of the older boys from St. Swithin's was found dead at the outflows and had to relay the unfortunate news to the boy's younger brother, which is why he had to stop by in the first place.

"Ah, I see." Mrs. Wilkins nodded her head understandingly. "And I assume that's why you're here, today? For a visit? Everyone's missed you, especially the kids."

Just as she said that, there was a loud chorus of pitter pattering feet across the floorboards upstairs and happy chattering that made Lucy smile. She was reminded of her time spent there and that at this time the nuns and school teachers would let the kids have a small recess.

"Just in time. I'll run up now, then." Lucy said.

Mrs. Wilkins smiled widely, while she waved her hands towards the stairs that led up to the dorms and school rooms. Lucy nodded and took note of her directions, despite her knowing the route like the back of her hand. With light steps, Lucy trotted up the stairs and through the halls, till she arrived at the double doors that led into the large family room where kids, ranging from three to almost sixteen, were enjoying their recess.

Lucy slowed her steps and paused at the entrance, leaning against the door frame as she watched the scene unfold. A nostalgic feeling washed over her as Lucy remembered that she was here once too, and it felt weird for her to stand at the door, no longer a resident there, but as someone else. She almost felt like a stranger. Almost. A high pitched squeal reminded Lucy that she was anything but a stranger here.

"Lucy!"

Now at last discovered, Lucy looked up to meet the gazes of a bunch of smiling children, as well as welcoming the grins that came from the older occupants of the room. The child who had called out her name, a blonde, five year old, little boy with cerulean blue eyes, dropped the Leggo blocks he was holding in his hands and scrambled over to Lucy, wrapping his little arms around her legs; and sooner than Lucy or anyone else knew it, the rest of the children had dropped their toys on the floor and followed suit. Lucy stumbled a bit, giggling to herself as she did so, as the amount of arms hugging her legs made her teeter a bit before she regained her balance by holding onto the door frame.

"Looks like I've been caught." She said, feigning exaggerated defeat to make the adults and kids laugh, which they did without question—probably because they would laugh anyways, no matter what she said.

She smiled sweetly down at the children, appreciating the warm welcome, and lightly patted each one on the head, wishing she could hug them all, but they had already gotten that covered. The children all smiled and peered up at the dark haired teen, not doing much to hide their obvious adoration of her as they took both of her hands and pulled her into the room and down to their level.

Literally.

Lucy sat down on her knees and subjected herself to listening to story on top of story concerning new toys or newly gained scabs and scars; and Lucy did well to pay good attention to them, till soon found herself looking away from the children for a short break and naturally placing her attention towards the window seats of the room. Not only because the window seat was where she usually spent her time as a child, but because her spot had gained a brand new occupant.

Lucy's eyebrows knitted together as she shed a glance at the young girl, sitting in her old spot and looking despondently out the window. Lucy inclined her head towards one of the children closest to her and quieted her voice.

"What's wrong with the girl over there?" Lucy inquired, giving a subtle point to the subject of her question.

The child she was speaking to, a dark-haired, seven year old boy named Max, glanced in that direction, and was quick to give her an answer.

"Who? Lily? No one really knows. She has just been very sad lately."

"Very sad? Why is that?" Lucy asked.

Max shrugged and started to recount the few things he knew, while he aimlessly played with a stack of blocks beside him. "I don't know. But there was a man in a black suit with a shiny badge, you know, like the one your brother has but only bigger, who came by a few days ago. We were in recess when he came to talk Reverend Mother about something."

"And do you know what that something was?" She asked. Lucy had to remind herself to keep her questions short and easy, as his answers could only be as detailed and complex as any seven year old's mind could be.

Max shook his head, as he built a tower with his blocks then knocked it over while he talked. "No. But it sounded important and they kept looking at Lily while they talked. And whatever they said, made Lily and Reverend Mother very sad."

Lucy officially felt concerned. She ruffled up Max's hair, thanked him for his help and sent him on his way, as she could sense he was getting too distracted to talk any longer. Lucy got up from the floor and quietly sidled her way over to the window seat.

The girl—Lily, as Lucy learned—sat with her back to the rest of the room. Lucy couldn't help but think for a second that the girl resembled herself, if she were twelve or thirteen again. Small, hunched over, long black hair framing a small, youthful, cherub-like face. But the only thing that Lucy could fathom that she believed differentiated them, was the fact that Lily held an almost depressed look in her big brown eyes, which, in Lucy's opinion, should hold smiles instead.

"Hi there." Lucy softly said. Lily didn't give a full turn of her head but only gave Lucy a brief glance before turning back towards the window. "Mind if I sit down?"

All she got was silence.

Lucy was aware that perhaps Lily wasn't going to pour out information to a complete stranger, but she figured that John sat in her position one too many times and made Lucy listen to him talk about the incredibly uncomfortable experiences that she might as well experience it for herself. But Lucy obliged herself to take a seat anyways and squeezed her already small waist onto what little space was left on the window seat. Lily only scooted over some more but gave no other indication of acknowledgment to her guest.

Lucy decided to try again, in hopes of some response.

"I'm Lucy, and you're Lily, right?"

This time she received a nod. It was a step up.

"I used to live here, you know. Used to sit right where you are right now."

Lily shifted in her seat and Lucy held a small grin at the reaction.

"It's a great place to think, don't you agree? It also gives you a place to be by yourself, especially when things get…overwhelming."

This elicited an agreeing nod from Lily but she also drew her knees up to her chest, like Lucy's words had struck her in a certain way. Lucy faltered on whether it was appropriate to go further.

"The kids tell me something made you sad."

Lily visibly tensed. But Lucy decided to continue testing her boundaries.

"They told me that a man, a police officer I am assuming, came to talk to you and Reverend Mother about something that made you sad."

Lily didn't respond with words but seeing a lump in her throat be swallowed down, her head rest on her knees, and her eyes glisten and become wet, was enough for Lucy to silently understand that, yes, things have been significantly overwhelming for Lily.

"You can tell me." She assured the younger girl.

Lily sat up a bit straighter and gave off a heavy sigh, and for a moment, Lucy thought that she had gone too far. But then in a shaky, mouse-like voice, Lily started to speak.

"A few weeks ago, when my brother, Will, turned seventeen, h-he started to spend less and less time in the orphanage. H-he had us convinced that he was out looking for a job or applying for college and schools, but…one day he didn't come back. Just…just gone. "

Lily's voice caught in her throat and she reached up to roughly wipe away stray tears that had fallen too early for Lily's liking. Lucy wanted to tell her to not think the worst just yet, but Lily hadn't quite finished her tale and continued on.

"Reverend Mother had some of the older boys and staff try to look for him, and I tried to think he'd come back…because he promised he would never go anywhere without me. B-but…it's been weeks, Miss Lucy…weeks. And when that detective, the man all the kids are talking about, came…well….he didn't have anything to tell me that I already didn't know."

Lily choked on her last statement and the few tears she had been holding back spilled over her lids. Lily immediately caught the drops as they fell and Lucy did the only thing she deemed alright to do: she wrapped a comforting arm around the younger girl, knowing that no matter how strong her will or how well-spoken she was, everyone needed a hug, especially now. Lucy couldn't bring herself to tell the girl that her brother was probably alright, for she had much knowledge of formidable circumstances that could have possibly met Lily's brother. So she opted for extra squeeze as she held the softly, crying girl under her arm and shushed her with calming words.

"Lily, I actually have an older brother too. His name is John Blake and he is a police officer. And maybe…maybe I can tell him about your brother. But…I need to ask if maybe Will told you anything that hinted off where he was going at night." Lucy knew it was a bit of a long-shot to suggest this, but her natural tenderness towards helping others was making itself severely known.

Lily sat up, sniffling up her spent tears and cleaned underneath her eyes, and gained a hard thoughtful look on her face as she considered Lucy's question.

"Well, what a pleasant surprise, Miss Blake!"

The two young girls looked up at the sound of the voice and quickly sat a little bit straighter. The woman they had been referring to as the Reverend Mother stood before them, her tall, skinny frame stood with much pride as her high position would allow. The Reverend Mother held a very familiar wise smile on her lips as she looked at Lucy.

"Reverend Mother! I was just dropping by for a visit…check up on everyone. It's great to be back." Lucy said, standing up and still held the hand of Lily's while she hugged the Reverend Mother.

The old woman chuckled while she took Lucy's free "Oh, that's wonderful, dear. You're always welcomed here. But…I must insist on having a word with you."

Lucy caught the seriousness that hid behind the calm mask the Reverend Mother was wearing for the children, as all attention was on them now. Reverend Mother subtly turned her eyes toward Lily and instantly Lucy was aware of the subject matter. But, not wanting to worry anyone, especially Lily, Lucy feigned a mask of casualness as she replied.

"Of course, Reverend Mother." Lucy said, before turning to Lily. "Listen, you just try to think about what I asked you while I go talk Reverend Mother, alright?"

Lily seemed reluctant to have Lucy go, but she slowly nodded her head and let herself crack the smallest of smiles. Both the Reverend Mother and Lucy saw this and felt something near relief from seeing the sullen girl seem brighter.

"Go on then, Lily. Go along and play, now." Reverend Mother said, helping Lily off the window seat and giving her small, urging push in the direction of the other kids. Thankfully, Lily easily complied and was soon engaging in a game of house with the other girls, still hopefully thinking about what Lucy had said.

They left the room and moved down the hall and into the office of the Reverend Mother. As she took a step inside, shutting the door behind her, Lucy was easily reminded of the imposing nature of this office. It reflected nothing of who the Reverend Mother was. The office was obviously built for someone of a hard, domineering manner, with its dark wooded furnishings and stuffy air and antique crucifixes hanging above the door and windows. But Reverend Mother tolerated its austere personality and did what she could to make it a place where she could work and manage…also make it a place people can talk in.

"I presume you have already heard the news about Lily's older brother, Will? And the detective?" Reverend Mother asked, while she walked over to the window overlooking Gotham, but did not deviate from getting to the point.

Lucy nodded regretfully while she aimlessly looked at the walls around her. "The older children seem to have some vague understanding of the situation. But for a young girl, Lily is…quite aware of her brother's case."

Lucy heard the old woman sigh. "That worries me."

Lucy turned to her, even though the Reverend Mother was facing the window. "It is better that she knows what could possibly be happening with her brother rather than believe in a lie, Reverend Mother." Lucy said, giving her the honest truth while at the same time trying to bring solace to her worries.

"I suppose you are, right, Lucy."

Lucy nodded her head and turned back. "Did the detective tell you anything?"

"He said to consider that maybe Will had just left to 'seek his fortune' on his own, or had just taken a step onto a different side of Gotham and stayed there. Other than that the last possibility he gave was…was…something about the sewers." Lucy stiffened at that, but continued to listen. "But, I insisted that he did not know Will like any of us did. Will wouldn't leave Lily here. I knew that, we all knew that. And I haven't heard about the sewers before…that's seems unlikely right?"

"Unfortunately, Reverend Mother that must be put under consideration." Lucy said, thinking back to the other orphan boy found in the outflows only days before and a cold shiver ran through Lucy at the very thought of it happening again, but she knew this couldn't be ignored.

The Reverend Mother turned herself away from the window and crossed the room quickly to stand in front of Lucy, a flash of concerned emotion in her glassy eyes. "What do you mean? Gotham is surely safe…I mean, it has been for years..."

Lucy swallowed hard and brought her hands out to clasp them around the Reverend Mother's shaking pair to calm them down.

"Reverend Mother, there are…an awful lot of rumors about the sewers now. I hear them on the streets and from John when he comes home from work. I don't think it can be ruled out."

"D-do you know what they are…" Her voice was hoarse whisper as it trailed off.

Lucy quickly shook her head. "No, I don't know what goes on down there and I doubt I would tell you if I did, to be honest. But till then…did the detective tell you what he was doing for the case?"

Reverend Mother let go of Lucy's hands and slowly made her way over to her thick office chair behind the oak desk of the room. Lucy watched as the subtly shaking figure of the woman sat down, pulling a handkerchief out of the pocket of her black dress and putting it to her nose.

"The man didn't even look more than a day and a half for Will before he came back to us." She said sadly, sniffling as tears glistened in her eyes. "Lily doesn't need this. She needs her older brother."

Lucy felt a pang of resentment at whatever detective put this case off followed by a keen sense of sympathy towards Lily, Will and the Reverend Mother at this very moment. Lucy, from many nights of listening to John rant about it, knew that the GPD and the MCU had started to slowly shirk on their responsibilities of law enforcement. Lucy supposed that when the city has little crime to answer to, then why answer to small mewls for help at all. _It's like they've lost the empathy to care anymore._ That's what John would say.

"Reverend Mother, I'll tell John about all this and…and we'll do our best to help. In the meantime, just…take care, alright?" Lucy managed a small weak smile at her old guardian.

The Reverend Mother stood up from her seat then and once more crossed the room to Lucy. This time she took Lucy's face, cupping it in both of her wrinkled hands, and looked down with pride at the face that had much matured since her adoption.

"We will, Lucy. But the same goes for you and John. Both of you must take great care of one another."

"Of course."

With that, the Reverend Mother kissed the top of Lucy's head and sent her off, whispering a prayer or two over the young teenager—heaven may only know when she'll be in need of it. Lucy left the office and nearly ran down the stairs, now needing to get home in order to sort through all of this before she told John. She threw a quick but polite goodbye at Mrs. Wilkins and started for the door. She was midway out, before she heard another pair of legs run down the stairs.

"Wait! Miss Lucy! Wait!"

Lucy paused and turned to find Lily, as she skidded to a stop at the foot of the stairs, huffing from whatever mad dash she just made. Lucy quickly lent a helping hand by rubbing Lily's back as she caught her breath.

"Alright, now. Catch your breath. Breathe." Lucy said, till Lily did limit her breathing pattern to just slow, deep breaths. "Now, speak."

"Right. I thought about what you asked, Miss Lucy and…and I remembered that the night before Will…left…"She momentarily paused at finding the right word to stand in for 'missing', that and her excitement for telling Lucy what she knew rendered her even more breathless. "He….he told me that she found good work. When I asked him where and how, he…he said that a man…no name….just a man was giving out work underneath Gotham….I-I don't know what that means but I hope it helps."

Lucy nodded her head rapidly as the information settled in. "It does, actually. Very much."

"Oh! And I found this…um, I just thought that maybe it'd help for you to know what my brother looked like if you ever find him."

Lily handed a small square photo that sat snuggly in the palm of Lucy's hand. The photo depicted a scene that must have been almost quite recent. The background was that of the orphanage's small dining hall with Lily and an older boy looking very similar to her, smiling from behind a birthday cake. Her brother.

Lucy looked up from the photo, a small smile on her lips as she gave Lily one more reassuring hug that would hopefully last the both of them the rest of the day. They said their goodbyes and Lily watched Lucy walk out the door, then, driven by the immense amount of off-putting news she only intended to share with her brother, run as fast as her feet could carry her home.

But when she arrived home, where John was already poring over massive amounts of manila folders and files, she realized that another missing orphans' case was just another piece of the bread trail that was leading to place that neither of them were prepared to face.

**SO? I know it isn't necessarily entertaining right now, but I promise all the big guns and characters are making their appearances in the next chapter. These are my sort of character establishing chapters, in which I hope that I am not creating any sort of Mary Sue. But hopefully, if you all feel kind enough, perhaps offer your opinions on these two chapters…there is a box down there for those kind of things…just throwing that out there….Till next time!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Hey, everybody! First off, I would like to thank the first four people who reviewed my story! Thank you for them, they were very encouraging and gave me a lot to think about for my story! One of my reviewers, forgive me for lack of names, said that being in Gotham is like being in the eye of the storm and that I was on the rim…is that a good thing? I hope so. Also, I am very glad that you all liked Lucy's character. I am happy I did alright with her Anyways, here is the new chapter and at least it has recognizable characters in it! Yay!**

**Please Enjoy…**

**Woops, forgot one thing….*ahem* I do not own anything except Lucy Blake.**

**Now, you have my permission to enjoy. (See what I did there?)**

Chapter 3:

After a night spent in long conversation, in which both John grudgingly made note of the second missing orphan of his knowledge and Lucy was practically forced to help John sort through construction files he brought home from work, with no knowledge of why except that they were looking for the name Dagget, both of them were in desperate need of sleep. But when the sun rose at an ungodly hour of six a.m. over Gotham City the next day, the Blake siblings were already up and hitched up together in John's squad car instead. Lucy sat with her chin propped up by the window, occasionally yawning and watching the bay and skyscrapers pass by, while John sat behind the wheel, driving them further out of the Gotham city limits.

Originally, John had a set plan to visit Bruce Wayne on his own that day, seeing as he had a mass amount of things to discuss with him, but it became quite evident that he wouldn't be going alone the minute he mentioned 'Wayne Manor' to Lucy, who was quick to jump at the chance to join him, even in her early morning drowsy state of mind, which, in his opinion, seemed slightly bothered this morning. He made it very clear to her that this was a serious visit on his part, trying to downplay the appeal of going, but Lucy also made it very clear that if he allowed her to come, the last thing she was intending to do was distract or aggravate the situation—as if she'd ever do that in the first place.

But Lucy was curious. Curious about a whole lot of things she can assure you of that, but curious if the rumors of Mr. Wayne, who, coincidentally, went into hiding the same time eight years ago as Batman, were anywhere near true, which was highly unlikely on some of the rumors that said he was a hunchback of some sorts. But no matter the rumors or their level of validity, she wouldn't be satisfied till she saw something for herself, or had it recorded for memory. It would surely put some peace of mind and distraction in her head, especially after the night she had.

So after a short one-sided deliberation, John finally relented and was presently driving onwards into the Palisades, whilst passing glances at Lucy out of the corner of his eye. She had been quiet since they left the apartment, which, while it wasn't exactly unusual, made John think that there was something off. Usually on long drives, they'd engage in some conversation that dealt with various random subjects that would either end in them laughing profusely or debating till one of them admitted defeat. But now, the only thing that was filling the air was the muffled buzzing from the police radio. That is until Lucy suddenly sat up straight a while later and spoke up, but nothing concerning her former quiet demeanor.

"Look! There it is, Wayne Manor."

When John looked, he found that she was pointing out of the windshields where Wayne Manor stood in all of its everlasting glory. Lucy leaned her towards the window to get a better view of the house, or castle seems more appropriate, and took it in as best as the car window would allow, realizing that the pictures did not do it justice—then again the few photos she's seen of Wayne Manor was when it was supposedly burned down when she was eight years old.

"It's better than the pictures." John observed, dictating Lucy's thoughts as he pulled up into the wide, semi-circular driveway and parked in a spot they were convinced had seen better cars than John's squad car.

"No kidding." Lucy muttered.

They got out of the car and slowly made their way up to the massive front door, being partly distracted by further examining of the property. John stepped up and took a deep breath before ringing the door bell. Lucy deduced that the house must have lots and lots of empty space as she could hear the chiming bell echo from where she stood. They stood at the door for a few minutes, Lucy counting them out by tapping each passing second on the strap of her messenger bag while she tilted her head to peer into the dark windows. Finally, she heard faint footsteps approaching and the humongous front door slowly creaked open.

"Can I help you officer?" A heavily, British—Cockney, if Lucy guesses correctly-accented voice asked.

Lucy leaned over to see around John and found the owner of the voice to be an aging man in a well kept suit, with a kind, wrinkled face, blue eyes, and head of white, wispy hair. He smiled politely at the two of them while he waited for John to answer.

"Hello, sir, I'm Officer Blake, and I was wondering if I could have a word with Bruce Wayne."

"My apologies, Officer Blake. Master Wayne does not take any unscheduled visits, even if they are from law enforcement." The man started to shut the front door trying to turn them away as kindly as he could. But Lucy could easily hear in his tone of voice that he had overused those words a long time ago and, apparently, John was aware of the same thing and wasn't about to let this pass.

"And if I get a warrant, will Mr. Wayne still not allow unscheduled visits?" John challenged, with a certain edge on his voice that made Lucy want to slap him for being rather forward, if not rude, with his entitlements as a police officer, while simultaneously, she wondered what was so desperately needed to be discussed that he had to whip out the 'issuing a warrant' intimidation.

The man stiffened at the threat and glanced warily from John then to Lucy. But he eventually took a step back from the door and pulled open wider, inviting them in.

"Very well then, Officer Blake. If you would both come in and wait a moment, I'll let Master Wayne know." John stepped in first followed by Lucy, who was once again overcome by the expanse of the front parlor.

He disappeared for a few minutes into the house, while Lucy and John stood, looking from the marble floors all the way up to the chandeliers in the ceiling. But in the meantime, Lucy grabbed the chance to question John.

"Issuing warrants to speak to a billionaire who has become a recluse, now?" She asked, casually.

"It got us inside the house didn't it?" John replied easily.

Lucy turned to him with an incredulous look on her face, as she lost a bit of her normal composure to ask in hushed whisper. "And what is so bloody important that you actually have to use the threat in the first place?"

John almost laughed at her British lingo but also had a moment where he considered that this was what was making Lucy quiet on the whole ride here. But he knew he was at least partly right, considering Lucy had a long list of things she thought about on a daily basis that she had yet to share with him and as far as he knew he was only aware of about two things on that list: Batman and missing orphans. He thought it was funny. How Lucy hardly ever shares what she's thinking but she is quick to question him and his intentions.

_Would I share them now? I always have and I think she'd like to know who Bat—_John silently argued with himself.

But he was lucky, because the butler returned just in time for him to skip explaining himself to Lucy. Poor girl was left unsatisfied and John was aware that he'd most likely have to deal with it later.

_Well, I better get solid answers then._ He thought to himself.

"Master Wayne will be with you in a few minutes, officer. If you will follow me, I'll take you up to the drawing room." The butler said, beckoning to them.

John took a step forward and quickly held an arm out to stop Lucy before she even could blink at the invitation. She looked up at him questioningly to find him shaking his head at her.

"I'll be going up by myself, Lu." He said, in his rarely-used, stern tone that wasn't to be questioned.

Lucy opened her mouth to protest but quickly snapped it shut as she didn't want to look like a petulant child in front of the butler, who was watching with much amusement in his eyes. Much to her own discontent, Lucy swallowed whatever she was going to say to protest and took a step back, obeying John's wishes. Besides, when she thought about it, she didn't have much to ask Mr. Wayne if she actually saw him, and like the rest of Gotham, it was more like she just wanted to see he was still breathing fresh air. If John came back downstairs and just told her he was living and looked normal, then that would be just enough to update her eight year old profile of Bruce Wayne in her journal. She didn't have to see him. She was not one to weedle into people's lives if she wasn't wanted. She only took what information she could find on her own without crossing too many boundaries-Lucy always thought that that differed her from the rest of Gotham's reporters.

"Oh, ok then. I guess I will just stay down here." Lucy said then looked around at some of the draped pieces of furniture that resembled amorphous blobs, which were uninteresting to say the least, as she weakly added on, "And look at the furniture."

This elicited a humor-filled chuckled from the butler.

"If you don't mind my dear, I have some tea and muffins waiting in the kitchen. Would you like some?" He offered.

Lucy couldn't help but gratefully accept the offer. "That would be nice, thank you."

"Very well. I'll return as soon as I show Officer Blake the drawing room."

The butler led John up the grand staircase, their footsteps disappearing from earshot to echo somewhere else in the house, while Lucy took another pointless look around the front parlor. A few minutes later, footsteps were coming back down the stairs and Lucy turned around to find the butler waiting for her.

"Ready, Miss…" He trailed off, realizing that he didn't have a formal name to tack onto that title, while Lucy became aware that she still hadn't put her finger on his name, let alone touch base on a proper introduction.

"Oh! Blake, Lucy Blake, sir. I'm Officer Blake's sister. Sorry about that." Lucy said quickly, sticking her hand out to him.

"It's perfectly alright, Miss Blake. You may call me, Alfred." He replied, taking her hand and giving it a firm shake.

"Alfred." Lucy repeated, thinking the name over in her head and finding it the fitting name for him. "Nice to meet you, sir."

"And to you as well, Miss Blake." Alfred returned before standing up straight again. "Now, if you are ready, the kitchen is right this way."

Lucy nodded and followed Alfred as he led them out of the front parlor and to the kitchen. On the way there, they passed a few rooms in which the doors were either shut tight or open with all of its furniture draped in white cloths. Lucy grabbed quick glances into the rooms, coming to a conclusion that when Mr. Wayne retreated into a corner of his home, the rest of the house sort of fell abandoned.

Lucy thought it was sad, really.

"Right through here, Miss Blake." Alfred's voice broke through Lucy's thoughts.

Alfred smiled at her as he held the kitchen door open and let her pass through first. Lucy, at first, thought that the kitchen would be filled with clanking of pot and utensils and chefs waiting to cook Bruce Wayne anything he liked. But she was mildly surprised when she found the clean, white kitchen completely empty except for a plate of muffins on the metal counter and pot hissing from on top of the stove.

"I think the water is done boiling, Alfred." Lucy informed him.

"Ah, perfect, right on time, then." He said, letting the kitchen door swing shut as he walked around Lucy to cross over the stove. "You can have a seat right there and I'll have a cup of tea ready for you." He told Lucy nodding his head in the direction of some barstools, while he turned the stove off and opened one of the upper cupboards to retrieve two tea cups.

"Earl grey acceptable?" Alfred asked her.

Lucy shrugged, as she slid onto one of the stools, pulling her bag onto her lap and wrapping her arms around it. "I have never tried it, but I am willing."

Alfred nodded, smiling to himself as he turned to prepare the tea. When he was finished, he turned back around and walked over to the table in between himself and Lucy, setting the little tea cups down. "There you are Miss Blake, Earl Grey tea. The muffins are also there for your picking."

Lucy took the cup from his hands and picked a blueberry muffin off of the plate that held and mountain of various types of muffins. She took a small bite out of the muffin, enjoying it especially since they skipped breakfast this morning, and the tea wasn't half-bad either.

"Thank you for this, Alfred." Lucy said suddenly, putting her half-eaten muffin down as she realized they had descended into quietness, save for the occasional audible clinks of the cups or sips of tea they made.

"Ah, it's my pleasure, Miss. I can understand how dull looking at bare walls and covered furniture can be and would not dare bestow that task on a young one like yourself."

"Most people would never call Wayne Manor 'dull'. I can only guess that the house looks much more beautiful underneath all the covers and sheets."

Alfred gave a wistful sigh and he set his teacup down. "It is, actually. I was around when Master Wayne's ancestors built this house, brick by brick and by their own two hands."

"I thought the original house burned down a few years ago."

"It did," Alfred confirmed that regretfully, but later added with pride, "But Master Wayne rebuilt it by himself, as you can see. Only let me help on certain parts of the property, even when I insisted."

_After he supposedly burned it down drunkenly? _Lucy thought but quickly shook away the rather discourteous question that she was sure wasn't suited for the conversation and tossed in a different question to save the day.

"You've been watching over him for long then?" Lucy asked.

"I've been a butler for the Wayne family for quite some time, Miss Blake. I was here in this very house when Master Bruce first made his cries into these hallways. They are practically my family." Alfred told her, a reflective glimmer in his eyes as he looked towards the windows of the kitchen. Lucy sensed he was having a bit of flashback moment and she silenced herself to let it pass, while she sipped at her tea.

When the moment passed, Alfred spoke again, returning to his original, polite and amiable nature as the momentary glimmer left his eyes.

"Were the tea and muffins to your liking, Miss Blake?"

Lucy looked down and realized she had actually drained the rest of her teacup and her former uneaten half of the blueberry muffin had been reduced to a few crumbs during that small break of silence. She was sure they had tasted fantastic, despite her enjoying the rest of the food and drink in an unconscious fashion, but Lucy wouldn't have kept eating or drinking if she didn't already know that it was all perfectly tasteful. This she assured Alfred.

"Yes, more than just my liking, Alfred. The muffins were fantastic. Better than the ones I usually get at the café. Did you make them?"

Alfred smiled. "Why yes, I did, Miss Blake. Master Wayne always told me my baking was phenomenal, but now I finally have a second opinion!"

Lucy laughed. "Well, I can assure you they are much better than most. By the way, the tea was also very good."

"I assume you were not an experienced tea drinker beforehand?" Alfred asked.

Lucy shook her head. "No. Coffee has become a very good friend of mine. Though, I have John to blame for that one. He drinks it more often than I do, especially when he's on the job. Sort of carried over his caffeine preferences into our home." She explained, with a small laugh.

"Ah, I see, Miss. Though, your parents must be proud of him, being an officer and all."

His words set an almost unfamiliar twinge in Lucy's chest. Her body suddenly became tense and the smile she held on her lips faltered and sank the slightest bit, but it did not disappear. Lucy averted her eyes to her lap as she mustered up an appropriate response, while keeping that weak smile on her face.

"Well, I wish I knew if they were." Alfred's eyes silently questioned for elaboration, but also took notice of Lucy's shift in demeanor. "His parents passed on when he was young and I was six when I lost mine and hardly remember them. John and I grew up as orphans. I mean, we aren't anymore since he adopted me, and I suppose we're each other's family."

Her explanation came out cleanly and easily as if it hardly mattered to her that this was her own series of unfortunate events she was discussing. But Lucy was only a bit uncomfortable, seeing as it was very rare that she had to talk about her past before John, and she was hardly bitter at her turn of bad luck because there happened to be better thing waiting for her after the turn. So Lucy somehow believed that she had no reason to be angry or bitter with the world, at least thus far—she says so because she never knows when she'll have to eat those words…not very soon, she hopes.

But evidently, Alfred didn't seem to have interpreted this as he had a look of realization on his face as he was convinced he took a huge step over a line.

"Oh, Miss Blake…I apologize. Truly, I had no idea that—"He stammered before Lucy looked up and gave him small forgiving smile.

"Alfred, don't worry about it. I try not to think about it too much." Lucy said, in such an indifferent tone that puzzled Alfred at the young girl.

He'd been around Master Bruce so long and watched him deal with the passing of his parents. Alfred knew different people dealt with loss in different ways, but he couldn't place his finger on whether or not she was just unwilling to deal with it or perhaps, she truly didn't care to remember. He would hope it wasn't the latter. In his opinion, it would be the worse of the two.

"Well, I suppose we shan't think anymore of it then." Alfred said, smiling as he tried to salvage what was left of light hearted air that existed before. "Would you like a tour of the household then?" He asked.

Lucy, who did well to recognize and appreciate Alfred's efforts, gave a halfhearted smile as she agreed, suddenly gaining the need to get up and move around. "That would be nice, Alfred. I have heard Wayne Manor has a fantastic library."

"Then I'll be sure we make a pass at that."

It was settled then that they would take a tour of the house. Alfred picked up their cups and placed them in the sink, promising to wash them later. They left the kitchen and Alfred decided to start with the outer grounds and gardens and work their way inside. It went without saying the land was large and extended for quite some distance, large enough for them to even have their own private family cemetery. Alfred then took her inside again and took her through the numerous dining rooms, bedrooms, studies in the West Wing of the house, taking time to show her paintings and artwork the Wayne family collected, which Lucy seemed to have enjoyed. He purposely held off on showing the East Wing for certain reasons, but knew that when he did show her, it would be brief and contained in one place, the library.

"And right through this hallway would be the East Wing. You can expect it to be just the same as the West, Miss." Alfred paused at the foot of the stairs and gestured to a dim, empty hallway to his right. Lucy tilted her head to the side as she curiously stared down the hallway, not really expecting anything to happen, but still felt like there was something peculiar down there.

"The library, Miss Blake?" Alfred reminded her just as he caught her looking down the East Wing.

Lucy broke her gaze at the darkness and turned back to Alfred. "Oh, right. The library."

Alfred smiled and turned on his heel towards the East Wing and for a moment, Lucy thought that Alfred was actually going to show it to her. But, instead Alfred stopped right outside a large door just on the edge of the hallway and opened it. Alfred beckoned Lucy forward and she walked over, finding her very much satisfied with this sight instead.

Lucy took slow steps into the room as her eyes moved from ceiling to floor, from floor to wall, and from wall to each tall, full bookcase and shelf that decorated the room. She couldn't help but slightly gape at the mere sight of this room, because after seeing the rest of the house, it appeared to her that this was perhaps one of the brightest and most welcoming rooms she had been in.

"May I…" Lucy trailed off as she looked at the shelves.

"I think we'd be insulted if you didn't take a look, Miss." Alfred said, urging her on with a nod and warm smile.

She didn't need any more encouragement than that. It seemed that the awkwardness of earlier had disappeared now, as Lucy walked down the first set of shelves, and perused the book spines for anything she recognized or could indulge herself in. Meanwhile, Alfred decided to stand back by the door to quietly enjoy the fact that there was someone else in the house actually making proper use of the library.

Suddenly, the comfortable quietness that had settled was interrupted by a phone ringing shrilly somewhere in a distant room, but due to the immense amount of open space in the house, it practically reverberated around like it was coming from right outside the library door. Lucy immediately looked up from the book she had pulled off the shelf a few minutes earlier, while Alfred straightened up a bit and poked his head out the door as the phone continued to ring. When he brought himself back in, he turned to her.

"I suppose I should answer that. I'll be back in jiff, Miss Blake. Don't go sneaking around, then." He warned her before starting out of the room.

Lucy smiled and gave a low laugh, taking his words lightly. "Of course, Alfred. I think I'd get lost if I did, to be honest."

Alfred poked his head back in the room, chuckling and nodding his head. "You would."

Lucy gave a dry, short laugh, knowing that that was true, no matter if Alfred was joking or not. Wayne Manor was a maze and in comparison to the library she was in, she figured she might as well busy herself with getting around this room before deciding to traverse through the mansion—if she ever had the rare chance to do so.

Lucy listened as the phone continued to ring for another few seconds before it was suddenly cut-off and Lucy was sure Alfred had reached it. She turned back to the book in her hand and slid it back onto the dusty shelf.

_Whoever cleans this place should really dust these shelves._ Lucy thought to herself, coughing a bit as the disturbed dust flew up into her face. She waved the air around, clearing it up, and wiped her hands on her jeans, before moving on. A short bit later, Lucy was rounding the last shelf in the room, an old copy of _A Tale of Two Cities _in her hands, when she caught sight of something in the corner of her eye.

Looking up from the pages of the book, Lucy realized that the library really was bigger than she had anticipated and found that there was another half of the library that was more open as it lacked anymore bookshelves. Instead, it held two extra study tables, a long shelf of photos, most likely of the Wayne family, and a grand piano. Lucy stuck her bottom lip out in thought as she closed the book and lowered it to her side. She quietly moseyed on over to the piano and brushed her hands across the shiny wood. Involuntarily, her hand dropped down to the cover of the piano keys. Lucy glanced around her, though she wasn't sure what she was looking out for, before hesitantly lifting up the cover. It creaked a bit and made a knocking sound as it propped open against the piano and Lucy automatically jumped to look to make sure she hadn't disturbed anything. Seeing as it was only herself that she disturbed, Lucy turned back to the piano and lightly touched the keys, starting from where the notes would rumble deeper and slowly climbed her way up. Every now and then she pressed on a key and it would emit a nice little chime that would ring and then diminish. Lucy smiled to herself, liking the sound, though she herself was not an adept music protégé with an ear for pitch. Eventually, her skinny fingers drifted near the top of the piano where the higher notes sat.

But just as just as her fingers were about to descend upon the keys, her small wrist was suddenly grasped in a vice grip.

**Does that count as a cliff hanger? Yes? No? Not really? I don't know. **

**Oh well, you all are free to tell me what you think, assume, suggest etc…in a review of course!:) **

**Bye loves! **


	4. Chapter 4

**Hey, everybody! So, here is a new chapter. Thanks for the support you all give me, it is very encouraging! Anyways, on a different note this chapter makes me a bit nervous, one, because I really thought on the dialogue, and two, because I fear I put too much into one chapter. Oh, well….**

**PS: To HiddenElf-Bookworm: I do understand what you were referring to, even though I am the youngest in my family **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of its affiliate. I only own Lucy.**

**Enjoy…**

Chapter 4:

"Dear Lord!" Lucy yelped in alarm, instantly stumbling backwards till her behind fell onto the piano bench with a bit of an unladylike crash.

Lucy looked up, finding herself absolutely shock-ridden at the hand on her wrist. Her eyes looked at the thick hand, knowing it was that of a man's—her head told her that much, and she traced her gaze up to the sight of the hand's owner. He was tall with hints of muscles underneath pajamas, but heavily weighted to one side and awkwardly leaning on a cane for support. He had a handsome face, chiseled features that were unfortunately hidden underneath a scruffy beard and mustache and a pair of sleep-lacking brown eyes that seemed to hold a sort of warmth in them, despite the stoic rigidness his face held.

But it was then Lucy was floored with bewilderment at who she was looking at.

"Bruce Wayne." She whispered before she could stop herself. "Lord…."

His eyes narrowed at the girl. "What? Am I not what you expected? Not what everyone claims?"

At the sound of his deep, tired voice, Lucy straightened up to answer quietly, as she gathered herself from her former lack of words, "No. Not at all, Mr. Wayne. Not at all what the papers say."

"And what do the papers say nowadays?" Bruce asked, feigning bitter interest in what Gotham city actually thought about him. He was in the right mind to believe that Gotham city had either put him under the categories of 'estranged recluse' or 'possibly dead', but he found some amusement in hearing what people were coming up with nowadays.

"Well...for one thing…" Lucy started, acknowledging his figure. "You aren't a hunchback."

Bruce almost chuckled, but it was repressed. Instead, he relinquished his hold on her wrist and took a small step back, leaning a little more on his cane as his narrowed eyes lost their suspicion and took a up a simple look of curiosity.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but you shouldn't believe everything you read in those papers."

"I don't, sir." Lucy easily replied.

"Then why are you here? If not to see if what everyone says about me is true." Bruce asked, his puzzlement with Lucy slowly making itself known.

Lucy shrugged, while idly rubbing at her sore wrist. "Well, to answer your question…first, I am here because Officer Blake, the officer I am assuming you just spoke to, is my brother. Secondly, I, like everyone else in Gotham, do wonder where the great Bruce Wayne disappeared to, but, the soundness and validity of others' assumptions of you, Mr. Wayne is hardly my concern. If anything, I didn't necessarily come here with my objective being on just seeing you, but now that I have, creating my own notions about you rather than confirming rumors seems like a better reason to be here, don't you think?"

Bruce Wayne couldn't help but be taken back. He was quiet for a moment, stuck just looking at Lucy, who sat there unperturbed by her own words. But she did look up at Bruce Wayne questioningly while she waited for his reply.

"You're very astute, aren't you, Miss Blake?" Bruce asked bluntly.

Lucy cracked a grin and gave a short chuckle, all traces of her previous bafflement disappearing as she started to speak conversationally and casually. "My name is Lucy, sir, and my brother says that my astuteness could be a bad thing."

"Well, Lucy," Bruce said, making use of her name. "It depends on how you use it."

"I agree, Mr. Wayne. I'll say that next time the Gotham Tribune turns me away for being too young to understand their 'business'." Lucy said, tossing her hand around flippantly at the word 'business'.

"The Gotham Tribune? You want to work for them?" Bruce asked, unable to hide his disbelief at one, the fact that she actually aims to work for such an underhanded newspaper (they may be the most read but they are also the most aggravating to get off your back), and two, the fact that she looks like she was barely out of high school and was already looking for such a job.

"I share your disbelief, Mr. Wayne." Lucy said, easily reading Bruce's emotions. "But, now that I think about it, perhaps, they don't like what I have to offer them."

"And what do you have to offer them, exactly?"

Lucy opened her mouth to respond easily but snapped her mouth shut as she remembered where she was and wondered if she had made herself far too comfortable here. For heavens' sakes, Gotham's resident billionaire recluse is standing in front of her with an expectant look on his face and here she was speaking so easily and casually. Lucy almost mentally slapped herself for running her mouth again—it was time like these where she felt she should heed John's warnings on her shrewdness

"Well?" Bruce's voice broke through her thoughts, reminding her that he was still waiting for an answer.

"Oh, right…well." Lucy trailed off as she searched for the right word to place as description of 'what she had to offer' the literary/ journalist world and came to the conclusion that she couldn't—which was odd, considering she could usually come up with a good description of things when called for. "I…I think it's better if I show you."

Lucy fumbled through her bag till her hand closed around a familiar leather object. She pulled it out, holding it tightly in her hands, and she started to contemplate in her head again if whether or not she should hand this over to Bruce Wayne.

But before she could reconsider, Bruce had already taken it in his free hand, undid the leather latch and started to flip through its ink covered pages.

"…Or you could do that…" Lucy mumbled to herself, as she watched him scrutinize each turn of the page. Lucy bit on her lip, wondering to herself what he was thinking. No one had ever actually read her work before, well, not really. John only caught glimpses from when he reads over her shoulder and the places she applied to for work turn her away before even giving her journal a glance. So having Bruce Wayne as the first to actually look through her work….well, to say she was a little nervous, despite her confidence in her work, was a slight understatement.

"You keep tabs on the Commissioner?" Bruce asked, as he brought her journal closer to his eyes for closer reading.

Lucy nodded, then ran through the list of the other people she deemed interesting enough to have under her radar. "Yes, I do. I keep tabs on the Commissioner, the Mayor, that woman who created the clean energy project-Miranda Tate, a few congressmen, and—"

"And my family?"

Lucy's lips suddenly pressed together. She lifted her eyes to see above the edge of her journal, where, sure enough, Bruce had his thumb holding the pages she had written about his family.

_Ok, maybe keeping tabs on people is a questionable action. _Lucy mentally admitted to herself.

"Well…" Lucy started, conjuring up the best way to play this off. "The Wayne family name is practically part of Gotham's history books. I'd be very surprised if I wasn't the only one keeping up with your family."

"I suppose you are right there, Lucy." Bruce agreed, before turning back to her journal with an appreciative nod. "Though, I must say that your work in here is very good."

Lucy thanked him and let him read through a bit more. Bruce flipped and skimmed through a few more pages, nodding to himself every once in a while, unbeknownst to Lucy that he was actually putting to memory a lot of the things she had written down because not only did he find her observations incredibly informative but also it gave him an idea of how much Lucy really knew about Gotham—both sides of it, considering a number of her noted speculations were very close to being right. It almost concerned him, but at the same time he couldn't deny that he was impressed.

But when he arrived at the end of a series of pages, he turned to the next and found himself unable to read onwards as he failed to comprehend what was on the page. It was blank, save for a single question written on the first line of the page:

'_When will he come back?' _

And right above it was a neatly drawn symbol, one that Bruce knew all too well.

His brow wrinkled as he stared at the simple five words and internalized them, unaware that Lucy was now eyeing him questioningly. The creak of the library door and the sound of footsteps entering the room kept Lucy from asking questions as well as roused Bruce from his musings, making him quickly close the journal. They both looked up just as Alfred stopped short at the door, a flash of surprise streaking across his old features as he realized that Lucy was not alone.

"Master Wayne! I thought you were returning to your room!" Alfred said.

Bruce waved off Alfred's worries and started to limp over to him, gesturing for Lucy to follow him, which she quickly did. "I was, but I found Miss Blake in here instead."

"Ah, you have to forgive me for that, Master Wayne. I was giving her tour of the house when the phone rang and I—"

Bruce lifted a hand to stop him. "Don't worry about it, Alfred. No explanation is needed, Alfred. We already had a conversation to make up for that."

Alfred's eyebrows raised and he looked disbelievingly from Lucy to Bruce and back to Lucy. "Very well, then. Miss Blake, your brother is waiting on you downstairs."

Lucy nodded her head and turned to Bruce, holding her hand out for a handshake. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Wayne."

Instead of taking her hand, Bruce placed her journal back into her hand and gave her the first polite smile he had cracked in the last few years. "Thank you for the talk, Lucy. It was…enlightening."

Lucy nodded in return, a sigh of relief going across her mind as she knew that she must have said something right in the entirety of their conversation. With her journal in her hand, she brought it to her chest, thanked Alfred for his hospitality, and made her way to the door, not needing Alfred to show her downstairs.

"Oh, but Lucy," Bruce called out to her, making her pause and turn. "Be careful with that journal of yours. There are people…who don't deserve to see what you have in there."

* * *

"Are you going to tell me what you and Bruce Wayne talked about, Lu?"

This was the third time John had brought this question up since they had left Wayne Manor, after John discovered Lucy's completely arbitrary conversation with Bruce Wayne. Lucy would have answered the first two times he asked, had she not been hung up on what Mr. Wayne told her before she left and the short moment preceding that. She dropped a glance down towards her lap where her journal sat, her finger scraping the edge of the pages while she tried to think of what entry she had made that could possibly elicit that almost troubled look on his face. This she put on hold as she had to give some answer to John, otherwise he was going to bother her about it the rest of the drive into Gotham.

"Are you?" Lucy quickly countered.

John scowled out the windshield. It aggravated him when she answered questions with questions. "Lucy, I am being serious." He said.

Lucy turned to him, one of her eyebrows quirked. "Yes, John. So am I."

"Lucy!"

"John, to be honest, you were the one who walked in first with the intention of talking to Bruce Wayne, if anyone should be explaining first, it should be you."

John sighed, mumbling to himself how much he disliked that she was right, at the moment. "Fine."

Lucy smiled triumphantly and sat back in her seat. "Then the floor is yours, John."

"Would you like the long or the short?" He started out.

Lucy glanced out the window as they entered back into the Gotham city limits. She sighed, wondering if which of the two she could grasp better without missing details on the way there.

"Whichever one you see fit."

John took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, as he gathered his thoughts together and tried to find the best way to start this. But he realized soon enough that with the climax of his story being what he knew it was, he discovered that there really was no good angle to start off with. So, for lack of better description, John sort of …just said it. But he was not aware of this, till Lucy slowly turned her head towards him, her eyes wide and incredulity written across her face.

"John, I love you and all, but you are…" She trailed off, in search of the proper word.

"Right?" He inserted for her.

"I was going to say crazy." Lucy corrected bluntly.

"Lu!"

"I'm sorry, John, but did you hear yourself just now? Bruce Wayne is Batman?" Lucy said, letting out a laugh at how utterly unlikely it sounded even when she said it herself, and that means something considering she's seen, heard, and written about some pretty crazy things.

John shook his head and sighed, well aware himself of how incredibly unbelievable it sounds, but he had already gone down that road himself but now, he won't deny that he is sure of himself. He can't completely describe his exchange with Bruce Wayne in words, but when he left, he couldn't be any more sure of himself.

"Lu, listen to me. Just think about the details, alright. They'll make sense. Trust me."

Lucy gave him a skeptical look. The car fell into silence, but it gave Lucy time to do as John suggested. First, she thought of a general characteristic of the Batman situation that could possibly apply to Bruce Wayne…and so her silent self-Q&A began.

'_Ok, Batman is supposed to be a normal citizen who spends his nights patrolling the city for crime, which possibly means his mornings are his sleep times, and Bruce Wayne, according to insiders at Wayne Enterprises and newspapers, is known for his late nights and morning naps in board meetings.'_

Lucy shook her head doubtfully at that one. There are many possibilities of Bruce Wayne's night escapade locations, and they could be anywhere—not that Lucy is willing to look into that. She shook her head and continued on.

'_Next, Batman has his own arsenal of high-tech, advanced weaponry and transportation, not known to any form of government agency. While Wayne Enterprises has one of the biggest divisions of science and technology in which they are also capable of retrieving, researching, and developing alien technology and it's at their constant disposal .'_

Lucy had to consider that one. She had to admit that that one started to teeter the weight system of possible against impossible.

'_Moving on to some closer details. It has been recorded, by the Commissioner, that Batman escaped injured that night he supposedly pushed Harvey Dent out of the building, then falling out himself. That fall broke Harvey Dent's neck, but damaged Batman's…leg?'_

The image of Mr. Wayne standing in front of her, leaning heavily on a cane and limping, flashed across her mind and Lucy immediately pressed her fingers against her temples, muttering 'coincidence' underneath her breath.

'_Finally, how long ago did Batman disappear?'_

'_Eight years ago.'_

'_And how long has it been since Bruce Wayne saw the light of day?'_

'…_Eight years…'_

"Dear Lord." Lucy suddenly said out loud, dropping her hands onto her lap. How she had let this slip her mind was beyond her. It didn't take any more than that for John to exclaim success in his head as Lucy became somewhat convinced.

"Believe me?" John asked.

Lucy sighed and shook her head. "Plausible, John. That's all I have to say."

With that, Lucy dug a pen out of her bag, flipped open her journal, and scribbled away. She did this for awhile, since, not stopping till she felt the car slow down and come to a stop. She looked up and around her, as John started taking off his seat belt and removing the keys from the ignition.

"Where are we?" She asked, realizing that they weren't at their apartment.

John pointed out the windshield towards the tall, glass building they had parked in front of. "Gotham General Hospital. Pay a visit to the Commissioner."

***Nervous expression while pinching her nose bridge in worry* Aishh. I'll be honest, I am afraid this chapter wasn't executed well….But at the same time, I sort of need it in this order…I hope I didn't rush things. **

**I would appreciate some feedback and reviews on what you guys are thinking so far and I promise that the chapters are going to get more interesting. If it helps…Commissioner Gordon is coming…so is Bane! But at least you got Alfred and Bruce, right?**

**Please Review! Till Next Time! **


	5. Chapter 5

**Hi everyone! So I'll be honest and say that I didn't have the greatest time writing this chapter, but I ended up hashing it out as best as I could. So, to be fair, I have only seen the movie twice so forgive me if some of the instances from the movie are a bit off. Please, forgive me. I'm trying here. As usual, I don't own anything that is associated with Batman, just Lucy.**

**Please enjoy!**

Chapter 5:

And pay a visit to the Commissioner they did…well, John did. Before Lucy could undo her seatbelt, John told her that he'd be making this visit quick, so she needn't join him on this one. So Lucy agreed, albeit a bit reluctantly, to stay in the car.

However, that was a few minutes ago and Lucy was already starting to get a bit fidgety and restless in her seat. Her eyes wandered around the small area the car window restricted her to and her hand tapped out a random rhythm with her pencil as a means of distraction. But soon that wasn't enough and Lucy released a heavy sigh as she leaned back in her seat. She wasn't an easily bored person, but after this morning how could anyone expect her to stay in one place and relax. Her thoughts were too much for that right now.

Lucy looked around the car for something of interest and found a single manila folder sitting in the back seat. She reached behind the seat and grabbed it, curious as to what it was, and after opening the folder, recalled that it was one of the construction folders they had looked at last night. Lucy assumed that it must be of some importance if it was part of the stack of files John had taken up with him into hospital. She wasn't sure if John really needed the file, perhaps that was the reason it was still sitting in the backseat, but whether or not he needed it seemed of little importance because Lucy was simply glad that this gave her a reason to get out of the monotonous air of the car. So without much hesitation, Lucy took the keys out of the ignition, turning off the car, and let herself out. She made sure to lock the doors before making her way across the parking lot and into the hospital sliding doors.

"Can I help you, Miss?" One of the nurses at the front desk asked when Lucy came in.

But Lucy was a bit enthralled by the new image of Gotham General and overcome by the incredibly sterile hospital smell, to answer her directly. She couldn't help it so much, as she remembered that only a few years prior this very hospital was nothing up a pile of scorched rubble after being blown to oblivion by the Joker. Now, here it was up and running as good as new, and surprisingly, hardly busy with not too many injured people in its waiting room. It was like a tell-tale symbol of Gotham's unbridled success at revamping its city.

"Miss?" The nurse tried again, this time getting Lucy's attention. "Are you looking for someone?"

Lucy nodded her head and approached the counter, asking as politely, "Yes, could you tell me where Commissioner Gordon is being cared for?"

To Lucy's surprise, the nurse didn't seem suspicious or even attempt to make it known that information concerning the Commissioner is confidential—which was a given either way. Another side effect of a revamped Gotham, Lucy supposed. However, the nurse did ask her what her business was being here and Lucy showed her the file as well as explained her relation to John, who, according to the looks of nurses, was well-liked around there. Easily satisfied, the nurse happily told Lucy the Commissioner's room number and even gave her directions before sending her off.

Lucy rode the elevators up a few floors till she arrived at the floor that housed the ICU patients. The doors slid open and Lucy stepped out into another surprisingly less than active area of the hospital, the only sounds coming from the chattering of the nurses' station or the beeping of the cardiac monitors from some of the occupied rooms, which were few from what Lucy could see as she walked down the hallway.

_300_

_302_

_304_

"304." Lucy read out loud, as she arrived outside the door. She looked around, again not sure of what she was looking out for considering she passed completely unnoticed by the nurses, before softly rapping her knuckles on the door. There was no direct reply, but she did hear a few voices coming from inside the room.

And ever so quietly, Lucy put her hand on the door knob and let herself in.

Lucy poked her head in and saw John standing at the end of the hospital bed situated at the end of the dimly lit room and beside him stood another authoritative looking man, who, much to Lucy's displeasure, was shedding a condescending look on her brother.

They appeared deep in conversation and Lucy quietly slipped further into the room till she was finally taken note of.

"Who the hell are you?" Unfortunately, the one who noticed Lucy first was the man who didn't seem to like John very much—and by connection, would not come to like Lucy. This she could already tell.

"Oh, my name is—"

"Lucy?"

Lucy turned to realize that John was now looking at her, a small look of aggravation on his face, and she unconsciously shuffled back a few steps, saying the first thing that came to her lips.

"Er…Hi?"

John opened his mouth to say something but the other man was quick to cut him off with a bit of his own tongue lashing. "Geez, does no one understand the meaning of confidential around here?! Look, Blake when I said this was no place for hotheads that also means no place for your little _friends_ either."

The emphasis placed on 'friends' insinuated the complete opposite of the Blake siblings' relationship. Both of them shuddered internally at the implication and sent disdainful looks towards the man's choice words.

"Lucy isn't one of my friends, sir." John started to explain, only to be so rudely interrupted again.

"I don't care if she's your girlfriend, Blake. Neither of you should even be here." The other man spat at him patronizingly.

"Let them explain." A feeble, shaky voice suddenly interjected.

Lucy, who had been quiet during this whole ordeal, looked towards the bed where the voice came from. Sitting up under the hospital's cotton blankets and hooked up to a number of monitors, was Commissioner Gordon. Though he seemed awfully different than what Lucy has seen before. He seemed weaker and almost sickly. His face was sallow and sunken and his hair was starting to slowly gray at the roots. All the unfortunate results of being burdened by his job…and then there's the fact that he was shot too.

"Now, what did you say your name was?" Commissioner Gordon asked, brushing off his deputy commissioner's words and looked to Lucy.

John took Lucy by her arm and pulled her closer to his side, placing a protective arm around her shoulders. "Commissioner Gordon, this is my little sister, Lucy Blake."

"Ah, nice to meet you, Lucy." Gordon said kindly, weakly lifting his hand up to shake Lucy's outstretched one.

"Sister?" The other man, Lucy had yet to learn the name of, was off to the side, mentally scratching his head confusedly at this small revelation.

It was then Lucy turned to finally pay mind to the man, who was the first to easily irritate Lucy, as none have done so before. Lucy placed a rare sinisterly sweet smile on her face as she sized up the man who had given her the epitome of rude greetings. John recognized this look and took a small step out of the way.

"Yes, sir. Sister. And what would your name be?" Lucy asked, feigning politeness.

The man, not aware of Lucy's discreet shift in demeanor, answered her simply with, "Deputy Commissioner Folley."

"Ah, interesting…Deputy Commissioner Folley." Lucy nodded her head thoughtfully before opening her journal and twirling her pencil out of her pocket to jot down something onto the page. The three men were a mix of emotions as they watched the girl in silence; Folley was confused, John was aware and had a strange sense of pride for Lucy, and Gordon seemed utterly amused at the scene.

"Well," John spoke up, once he saw Lucy forcefully place a period at the end of her very…descriptive statement and close her journal without so much as a small impish smile. "Lucy you never did tell us why you are here. I know I told you to stay in the car."

"Oh! Right!" Lucy snapped her finger, as her mischievous smile disappeared from her lips and she returned to her normal self again, remembering her original purpose. "I know it's in here…." Lucy mumbled to herself as she groped around her bag for the file. "Ah! Here it is! You left this in the car!"

John took the file in his hands and looked inside before adding it to the stack of files in his right hand. "Well, what do you know…Thanks, Lu."

"What are those, Blake?" Gordon asked, pointing to the files.

"These are those construction files you wanted me to check, sir. I didn't find much, except that they were all authorized under a man named John Dagget." John explained, opening a few files and holding them out to the Commissioner.

Gordon handed his tray of uneaten hospital food to a displeasured Folley and made room for the files John placed in front of him. Gordon carefully sat himself up a bit more before sliding on his glasses so he could skim through the files.

The three others in the room became quiet again. John was patiently waiting for word from the Commissioner, who, in Lucy's opinion, was the only authority her brother actually paid any mind. Folley, on the other hand, didn't seem too happy that the rookie officer was still in the room, much less under Gordon's request. This Lucy could easily see, anyone could really, but he also made it even more obvious when he tried to get John to leave and return to the station.

"Folley." Gordon interrupted, without even looking up at him or acknowledging Lucy's rather sharp scowl, "The station actually needs **you** to hold down the fort while I'm holed up in this place."

While this partly bothered Folley that he was the one being sent out, it also pleased him that Gordon was temporarily bequeathing his authority to him and with a mostly satisfied nod and to Lucy's delight, he left the room. When the door shut behind him, John turned back to the Commissioner.

"Well, sir, I probably need to get back—"

Gordon looked up then, a subtle grin on his face, and lifted his hand to put a pause of John's statement. "No, son. No need to return to the station. You are going to follow up on these files, right here."

"Sir?" John asked, confused. Lucy looked on, equally puzzled by what Gordon was hinting towards.

But Gordon brushed off questioning looks and continued on as casually as he could. "Also, get yourself out of that uniform and into a suit. You work for me now—Detective."

At first, neither of them knew how to react. But as the last word settled into their brains, John smiled, able to keep his feelings from overwhelming him, but soon found himself being wrapped up in the arms of Lucy, who's enthusiasm could easily equal both of theirs. She honestly couldn't be happier for John. Finally, his hotheadedness is paying off for something, plus she could only imagine the look on Folley's face when he found out.

"Suppose I should get right on that then, Commissioner." John said after he pulled away from Lucy, ready to get a start on his new promotion. He looked to Lucy first and nodded his head towards the door. "C'mon Lu, I'll drop you off at home first."

"Alright, you two make sure you visit often and keep me updated." Gordon said as he shook John and Lucy's hands. "Only God knows how much these doctors and nurses would like to keep me wired up and medicated in here, without anything to keep me entertained." Gordon said, looking around the dim room warily like it was a cage.

John laughed, but understood the Commissioner's distaste with the hospital and offered another bit of comforting words. "You take it easy, alright, Commissioner."

They waved at Gordon and were soon out the door.

However, that wasn't the end of the hospital visits. While John did promise to constantly keep the Commissioner updated, Lucy also considered dropping in for visits as well. From what she had observed in the hallways of the hospital, Lucy knew that the Commissioner wasn't joking about the monotony this place was bound to become if something or someone didn't come and engage the Commissioner. Boredom is a terrible thing, Lucy knew this, after all she couldn't sit still in the car for more than a few minutes, and surely it could not do well for someone who suffered a gunshot.

And so that thought soon turned into an action.

For the next day and the days that followed, Lucy made herself a common visitor to Commissioner Gordon. The first day, Gordon was rather surprised when Lucy came in, not saying much at first and taking a seat by his bedside. When first asked why, she simply said that she thought he would like some company and she was right. Fortunately, the situation didn't end up being skin off of Lucy's back because as the visits rolled in, Gordon began to oblige her to a story or two about his days as a rookie police officer and sometimes she would return the favor—where a story was due, of course.

As the days progressed, Lucy would come in during the morning and stay till the end of visiting hours, when John would pick her up from his patrols. Lucy never minded staying for a while because his stories were always dynamic and interesting, especially the ones that concerned the Batman.

Those were Lucy's favorite.

He told her stories about his cop days and the Batman like he knew him up close and personal and with so much enthusiasm—well as much as his injured self could muster. So much so that her journal pages, which were also present and accepted during these visits, were full of details that didn't even come from Lucy's mind. Times like these made Lucy think of grandfathers sitting their grandchild on their knee and telling them war stories. Though she'd never tell anyone this, it filled the small gaps in Lucy's life that she missed out on.

However, when there were the dynamic hero stories, there also came those stories where Lucy wasn't sure where to put her pencil at all. While Gordon shared the heroic recounts of the Batman's efforts, he couldn't leave out the true nature he had witnessed left behind in the Joker's wake. Lucy could clearly see the regret in his eyes as he told her about how he himself was subject to the Joker's test of human nature, to make a choice between two human lives to save. This is where Lucy's pencil hesitated.

And the distressing stories didn't seem to end there. The next visits after that, Lucy found herself listening Gordon's words on what happened in the sewers that day he was shot. She wasn't sure if he really intended to speak about his experience or if it was the pain medication talking, but he didn't seem to hesitate in telling her at all, like he trusted Lucy well-enough to understand and grasp the story. Lucy wasn't complaining. After all, she had wanted to hear more of this, especially first hand, but given the circumstances and the disconcerting look on Gordon's face as he told her about what he saw down there, Lucy was unsure if this was the right time to write. But against her better judgment, overcome by her need-to-know interest, Lucy wrote anyways.

"An army, you say?" Lucy asked, almost disbelievingly.

Gordon nodded tiredly, like his stories had worn him out a bit. "There were so many men down there, Lucy. All of them gathering together, with their own weapons. Gathering for what, I don't know."

Lucy pensively tapped her pencil after noting this, and something flicked on in her head in recollection—something to do with sewers and missing people. Sitting up eagerly, Lucy stuck her hand in her bag, in search of something.

"Commissioner, if there were a large amount of men down there in the sewers…did you happen to see anyone who looked like this boy right here."

Lucy brought out the photo Lily had given her of her and her brother and showed it to the Commissioner. Gordon held the photo in his head as he racked his brain for any recollection of the face, while Lucy quickly explained the story of Lily from her orphanage, in hopes of learning something comforting for the little girl as she hadn't really done so these past few days. But unfortunately, Gordon could not recall the face and apologized to Lucy as he handed the picture back to her.

"It's alright, Commissioner," Lucy said, though a bit disappointed. "What else do you remember?"

He sighed and rubbed his eyes before settling them straight on his nose again. "They brought me to their leader. This huge, gigantic man…in a mask."

Lucy's mind immediately flashed back to the nightmare she had nights ago. An unconscious shiver ran down her spine and Lucy skillfully pushed it away.

"Did…did they call him by something?"

Gordon looked at Lucy and nodded his head slowly.

"Bane."

**Ok, so there was that chapter and I have few things to say:**

**1: Like I said, I have only seen the movie twice so I am sorry if this isn't where John becomes a detective yet. It just works with what I am doing with the plot.**

**2: I know that Folley (I think that is his name) wasn't as bad of a guy in the entirety of the movie, it's just in these parts of the movie that I used where he bothered me a lot. **

**3: I hope that the way I portrayed Gordon and Lucy was good enough and I also hope that the way I wrote the end of the chapter wasn't as horrid as I thought it was at first.**

**I swear I am not fishing for comments—cross my heart and hope to die. But I think this is just the result of pulling this chapter out with much difficulty. HOWEVER, the next chapter is one I am more than excited to write…so till then, I will sit here, scratch my head, and hope that I did something right!**

**Till next time, I'd appreciate it if you visited that review box down below **

**Much love and appreciation!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey, everyone! This is chapter was kind of exciting for me to right. I warn you, there are spoilers in this chapter if you have not seen the film…but then again the last few chapters were like that so…Yeah…I actually finished writing this at about one in the morning and left it to be read over and edited till today…because my editing and writing skills are never in tip top shape at the early morning hours.**

**Anyways! I do not own Batman or the Dark Knight! Alright…how many times must I say it.**

**Enjoy!:)**

Chapter 6:

"So where are you off to today, Lu?"

Lucy looked up as she walked into the kitchen the next morning, after a rather tumultuous, sleepless night. She gratefully took the cup of coffee he offered her and sipped at it while she considered his question. John, used to Lucy's visits to the hospital these days, expected her to say that's where she was heading again, not that he minded so much. He was actually quite happy that Lucy was doing something that was good not only for the Commissioner's recuperation but because it also distracted her from the more morbid news of Gotham—or so he thinks. John was unaware of how these last few days at the hospital fared and how much morbid news Lucy learned, without even stepping onto the streets of Gotham.

Lucy grabbed her journal out of her bag and flipped around its pages, calling to mind the places she owed a visit since she'd been spending so much time at the hospital lately. She thought it was time she took a break from that and let the Commissioner actually rest on his own, especially after yesterday's rather unsettlingly informative visit. Lucy glanced back at her journal, pursing her lips, as she came to realize that her stock numbers and investment notes were a bit out of date.

"Looks like Wall Street…" She sighed, much to her own chagrin with the incredibly loud yet uninteresting location.

John was a bit surprised at the sudden change of mind, but managed a chuckle at the face Lucy was making.

"If you don't like the place so much, why go?"

Lucy took a huge gulp of the hot coffee, accepting the scalding liquid as a good wake-up call, and deliberately tapped on her journal as her answer.

"I have to keep up to date with everything in Gotham, every crime, every celebration and even the immense amount of money that is constantly being given and taken away from the citizens." Lucy spoke her occupational mantra with a bite of sarcasm.

John nodded his head understandingly, knowing not to ask anymore, and glanced at his watch. He stood up straighter as he noted the time and started to gather himself to leave for another day on his new job, which, he wouldn't let Lucy know, was a bit more challenging than he originally thought as he was following leads to near dead ends.

"Alright, Lu. Whatever you say that helps you sleep at night." He said, finishing the last of his coffee. "I'll be sure to tell the Commissioner where you are. Just stay out of trouble and don't go chasing crime stories, alright?"

Lucy smiled half-heartedly and nodded. "Understood, though I think that is your job, right?"

John grinned and gave a light chuckle as he pulled on his wind breaker over his suit. "Exactly, Lu. That is my job and I have to do it." He started on his way out, placing a kiss on Lucy's head on the way there, and called over his shoulder one more time. "See you later!"

Lucy acknowledged his departure with a small wave as the door shut. Now by herself, Lucy drank down the last of her coffee, briefly thinking that a cup of tea would have been nice before she started to gather herself to leave. She tossed her stuff into her bag, in an uncharacteristic disorderly fashion, before going to their closet to find her red knit jumper to wear over her blue button up and a black beanie to wear over her dark head of hair, as the days in Gotham were growing chilly. Afterwards, bag slung over her shoulder, Lucy was out of the door and once again on the streets of Gotham, her boot clad feet taking up their old rhythm again.

She didn't head straight for Wall Street, seeing as it was quite a walking distance from their apartment, but decided to make a few extra stops on the way there to places she actually liked. So she made cut into downtown and made a stop at the local bookstore and looked around the stacks till she ended up actually finding a used copy of _A Tale of Two Cities _that looked much like the one she had found in the Wayne Manor. With that new reading material tucked beside her writing material, Lucy crossed the street where she stopped at small café, finding herself in need of another pick me up. Within a few minutes, she was back out on the sidewalks, now fisting a chocolate muffin in one hand and steaming cup of Earl Grey tea in the other, both of which, by the way, were nothing compared to Alfred's when Lucy thought about it.

Lucy continued on her way, watching as the city woke up around her. As she approached the hub of Gotham, the streets became busier and busier with its inhabitants slowly transforming from middle class to strictly professionals in their dreary, designer suits. Lucy was very much so out of place in her bright red jumper and jeans, she knew this and it wasn't just because of the curious and occasionally snooty looks they gave her as she passed by. But Lucy hardly paid them any attention, as these actions were nothing uncharacteristic from this upper side of town. Funny they'd place the stock market location here, where it is easily accessible to those who already have their own fortune, yet not to those in search of their own.

"Back again." Lucy mutters to herself as she peered upwards at the stately building in front of her. She threw back the last of the hot tea and went to dump her trash in the trash can on the street corner. As she neared the trash can, another man stood on the other side, shaking his head and scoffing at the newspaper in his hand. Lucy slowed a bit just as the man forcefully threw the newspaper into the trashcan and walked away, muttering underneath his breath. Wondering what that was about, Lucy held onto her trash for a moment and looked into the trashcan to read the headline.

'_Bruce Wayne: Resurrected from the Grave'_

Lucy's eyebrows lifted and she reached to grab the newspaper, dropping her own trash in return. She unfolded the newspaper out, an unidentifiable piece of something falling out from in between the pages, but she was too busy reading the article that she simply stepped over and walked onwards.

'…_Last night, Bruce Wayne has finally returned to see the light of day. After eight years of being completely alienated from Gotham, Bruce Wayne takes his first steps back into the public eye at a charity ball hosted by Miranda Tate, Wayne's former business partner on a 'clean energy' project that botched and evidently lost Wayne Enterprises a mass amount of funds and support…'_

The rest of the article went on to describe, in very good detail, the crumbling state of Wayne Enterprises as well as the excess amount of insight into Bruce Wayne's reasons behind disappearing. Lucy allowed herself to skip over those and, instead, she looked underneath the article where there was a snap shot of the new and somewhat improved Bruce Wayne. He now looked clean shaven, not hair out of place, and he had shirked the pajamas for a nice looking suit that hugged his form well, his form that was still hunched over a cane, unfortunately.

Lucy grinned to herself, just glad to see that Bruce Wayne had made the decision to return to civilization, which was the only thing that she really cared about out of that article, really.

_Funny, if according to my speculations and John's gut feelings, now that Bruce Wayne has returned, maybe so will Batman._ Lucy thought to herself, half-jokingly, but shook her head as her cynicism still said that this was unlikely.

She folded up the newspaper, putting it away in her bag. She looked up to give the Wall Street building a disgruntled once over, before finally gathering her wits about her and trudging up the front steps and into the glass doors of the building.

Lucy was instantly greeted by the cool air-conditioned breeze of the lobby and a moderate amount of bustling, as it appeared that all the action was seen on the floors of the actual stock market. Beyond the security checkpoint, which Lucy grudgingly passed through, she came face to face with the glass double doors that led to what Lucy likes to call 'Monetary Pandemonium'. She stood there for a moment, contemplating going in or not as she tried to convince herself that maybe she didn't have to report here today. But her ruminating was cut short when she was rudely brushed aside by a tall, suit-donning, young man—most likely a yuppie living off his trust fund and diploma from some Ivy League school. He turned around, a rude remark ready to be directed at whoever was in his way, but he stopped short at the sight of Lucy. She watched as his demeanor change from dismissive to lecherous within seconds, giving Lucy the sudden urge to practice that right hook that John had so painfully tried to get her to learn. But that urge was pushed away as Lucy realized that he—whom she will now call 'The Suit'—had moved to hold the door open for her.

"After you." He said, attempting to seem like an actual gentleman. But Lucy couldn't take him seriously and reacted with a mere indifferent lifting of her eyebrows. He failed so much so that the man working the shoe shining station nearby noticed and snorted in suppressed laughter.

Lucy and 'The Suit' looked at the man, 'The Suit'' using a sharp glare while Lucy gave a curious look at the randomly present shoe shiner, who, by the way, looked nothing of the job description and just as physically out of place here as she was.

"Have something to comment on?" 'The Suit' asked.

The shoe shiner immediately shook his head and went back to fiddling around at his station. 'The Suit' smirked, impressed with himself for showing the shoe shiner up. He turned back to Lucy, wiping away his smirk to place a somewhat attractive smile on his face as still held the door for her.

_He'll get his comeuppance one day._ Lucy thought, putting her irritation with the man at ease.

She quickly walked in, ignoring 'The Suit's' feigned charm, and smartly distanced herself from his wandering eyes. Lucy moved somewhere into the loud, crowded chaos of the stock market, but chose to stay near the edges of the crowd. People were literally packed in like sardines in this mad house and if Lucy had any intention of leaving without being elbowed in the gut then she'd be smart and stay out of the way and near the doors.

Now situated in a somewhat comfortable position near the back wall, Lucy dug out her journal and pencil and recorded the numbers off of the various screens around the room onto her investment and stock lists.

"The faster I can get out of this place the better." She told herself as she stood on her toes to catch the latest stock updates of Wayne Enterprises.

So with one last dot and flourish of her pencil, Lucy eagerly snapped her journal closed and tucked it away, readying herself to bolt and weave for the exit out of this place. But just as the door came into her reach, she caught a glimpse of unusual movement from both inside and outside of the room.

"What in the world…"

Perhaps, it was due to the fact that the room was bustling zoo of people more concerned with the numbers on the screens around the room rather than their surroundings, or the fact that Lucy had that natural sense of keen awareness that subjected her to the first glimpse of a gun being lifted into the air. In the course of the slow ticking seconds, Lucy, by her first instinct, dropped into a low crouch, her hands moving upwards over her head just as the real mayhem broke out.

Bullets flew, ricocheting off computer and TV screens and landing in the few people so unfortunate to have been within close range. The screams and panicked cries followed without a moment's pause, as everyone in the room dropped to the ground only a mere moment after Lucy did.

But as quick as the screaming began, it halted.

Lucy cautiously lifted her head from underneath her arms, her ears ringing, hands shaking, and her mind trying to comprehend the situation.First she turned to her left, as a wall occupied her right, and found a woman shaking uncontrollably and bearing terrified expression, which could be easily said about everyone else in the room. Next, she turned her eyes onto the gunmen standing dispersedly about the room, guns poised at the ready. They were a motley crew of three or four men not uniformly dressed or masked like any other stereotypical group of gunmen, which Lucy found took away from their scare factor, not that they weren't scary...the guns did that for them.

But Lucy quickly came to learn that the gunmen weren't even the ones the people were terrified of.

She looked back at the woman beside her and followed her real line of sight, discovering her real source of terror.

A huge, for lack of better word, man strode into the room, his hulking form making heavy, audible thumps with every step he took. Lucy's eyes trailed upwards from his jumps suit clad body and settled on his head, where Lucy felt a cold shudder rip down her back. A mask took over about two-thirds of his face, his eyes and a bit of skin the only parts visible. It was strapped securely over his bald head and around his jaw line, and right where his mouth should have been, there was a mouthpiece that had many little pipes sprouting outwards, looking very similar to a spindly-legged spider or a sharp jointed claw protruding from his mouth.

In her head, it was like the Commissioner's voice was speaking to her again and a name stuck out and resonated till Lucy was sure that this was the man the Commissioner was telling her about.

_Bane._

And as if the room heard her silent confirmation, a visible tremor moved through the cowering crowd.

"There's no money here, you can't steal anything!" Someone suddenly gained the audacity to shout out.

Heads whipped around to find the owner of those words, and Lucy was hardly surprised when she found that it was 'The Suit'. Figures that the overly confident, pompous tool would be the one to try his luck with the frightening man in the mask—Lucy never thought he was smart.

Everyone watched with held breath as Bane walked straight over to 'The Suit' and tilted his head to the side before he spoke.

"Then why are you here?" Lucy was taken back at the tone of his voice. It was…articulated, almost aged and clearly intellectual. Nothing at all like what the physical appearance or the mask gave off.

But before Lucy could make a full judgment on his physical means, he had grabbed 'The Suit' by his tie and gave a simple tug that threw him toward the nearest computer desk, his rolling chair doing nothing more than increasing the force with which he slammed into it. He was given no time to recover before Bane had him by the back of his head and smashed him face first into the table top, eliciting a resounding crack and collective gasps from those who could not stomach the act.

Lucy managed to shut her eyes and only cringe at the sound that was made when 'The Suit's' face connected with the desk.

_There was his comeuppance._ She thought blandly, not even feeling the satisfaction she thought she would.

When she opened her eyes, Bane had snagged the I.D. card off 'The Suit's' jacket and used it to gain access to the computer system of the market, pretty much giving him full admittance to all the stocks, investments and trades. But why he did so confused Lucy. He couldn't steal anything here, it's already been said and it's true.

Bane turned to one of the gunmen and coolly gestured to the computer. "Do your work, brother."

It almost shell-shocked her when she found that this 'brother' he was referring to was none other than the shoe shiner she had briefly seen outside, only now he had shed the shining tools for a small netbook that he hooked up to the main computer. Lucy mentally cursed herself for missing this. For an observant person, how did her internal alarm not go off at his disguise?

"What is he doing?" Lucy quietly questioned, carefully lifting her head above the others to try and get a better look.

But she ducked back down when something vibrated in the back pocket of her jeans. Her hand blindly reached back till she wrapped her hand around the object: her phone. Her eyes widened in realization and she quickly, but discreetly, slid her phone out of her back pocket and into her hand. Recognizing the possible danger her phone posed, Lucy's eyes flickered nervously from the gunmen and bane, whose current focus was luckily not in her direction, then back at the blinking green light on her phone. And against her better judgment, she hunched over a bit more to hide her phone as she opened the message.

'_From: John_

_To: Lucy_

_Are you safe? I'm outside. Police have the market surrounded. What is happening? Please be ok, Lu. Help is coming.'_

Meanwhile, just outside, John stood beside his squad car among the many now circling the front steps of the Wall Street building, looking apprehensively down at his cell phone. He realizes that it probably isn't smart to be texting Lucy when this could be a hostage situation, but then again, he did possibly just break a few road rules to get here after the call got to him. However you cannot blame him, for in order for him to maintain the calmness the GPD taught its cops to have during times like these he had to ensure Lucy's safety, otherwise he was not going to be able to maintain his cool.

Back inside, Lucy felt a small hint of relief at the message and started to carefully type out a response. But before she could even finish typing out 'I am okay', her phone was wrenched away from her hands, thus putting out her small glimmer of comfort. Her head whipped up, silently cursing herself for being discovered, as the gunman was now reading her text messages through narrowed eyes. The people around her became aware of what was going on, but did nothing to help (actually they looked a lot like they were about to piss their pants).

"Stand up, you little brat." The gunman commanded, even though he was already hauling Lucy up off the floor by her arm.

"What's going on over here?" Another one of the gunmen, who was lankier and seemed less threatening than the one tightly gripping her arm, came over as he saw the exchange. Lucy found that in spite of his physical appearance, he did hold some form of authority, though, perhaps not as much as Bane.

The gunmen handed Lucy's phone to him and he glanced over the screen. Lucy gulped nervously, unsure of what this was going to amount to for her, and felt her arm start to tingle where the gunmen had his vice grip on her. Wincing, she moved the slightest bit, pulling on her arm to try and get him to loosen up, but in response, thinking she was trying to resist, he only tightened his hand on her arm and prodded her back with his gun.

"Come with me." Lucy silently thanked the Lord when her arm was released, sure that she had a bruise there now, but she wasn't out of the park yet, she was only being passed onto the man with a bit more authority. Thankfully, he had a softer grip on her arm, one that didn't hurt so much but ensured that she couldn't slip out.

At that most likely unconsciously done gesture, Lucy almost relaxed. Almost. She stumbled when she realized where she was being led to next.

"Bane." At the very sound of his name, Lucy tensed up as she found herself standing within only a few feet of the masked man, who had recently rendered man unconscious—or possibly dead, Lucy couldn't tell—by two moves that looked of minimal effort on Bane's side. Now standing this close to him, Lucy realized that with the extent of his physical power and his physique that left absolutely nothing to imagination, that he could very well snap her neck without so much as a twitch of the wrist.

Lucy shivered at the thought and wanted nothing more than to be unnoticed again. But she was left no time to pray for hope as Bane turned around.

He only gave Lucy a glance at first before he took her cell phone in his massive paw of a hand. He skimmed the message then properly looked down at Lucy, who fought the temptation to cower away.

"You appear severely out of place here, little one." Bane's mechanical voice came out, sounding like a hiss now that she stood closer. "Barsad, search her bag."

As her bag was taken from her, Lucy wanted to protest, but she decided against it seeing as her throat had suddenly become too tight and dry for her to say anything at all. Bane settled a calculating gaze on her and it pierced Lucy, making her feel small, like he was a lion and she, a mouse.

"Tell me your name, little one." It wasn't a question.

Lucy gulped, trying to get her throat to relax. "Lu…Lucy." Her voice came out quiet, despite her attempt to make her voice sound even. But who was she kidding? She couldn't even look him in the face, at the moment.

A heavy weight suddenly rested on her shoulder and Lucy realized Bane was now holding her by the shoulder. Lucy inwardly shuddered at the contact, but it almost boiled over when Bane spoke again.

"Speak up, child, and look a person in the eye when they are engaging you. Otherwise, you appear weak and afraid. Are you afraid of me, child?" His statement was unnerving. He spoke to Lucy as if she were a child that he was giving a mere lesson on common courtesy to.

Her logic and reason so desperately shouted that, yes, she was afraid. But as it so happens, her logic and reason flew out the window long ago, most likely around the time bullets were flying in the air, and Lucy's mind and bodily actions were a bit out of balance with one another.

"No." Lucy suddenly said before she could stop herself, but loud enough that it seemed in response to Bane's words. She pulled her words back into herself and slowly looked up, almost having to crane her neck in doing so, as she added on in a quieter voice. "But I suppose I should be, though."

"You guess your fears? You are unsure of them?" Bane asked, sounding almost amused at the young girl.

Lucy winced as his hold on her shoulder tightened a bit, but she did her best to not falter as she made a response.

"Would…would it please you if I told you I was afraid?"

Lucy was unsure of what possessed her to say what she did, and she almost regretted it. Bane made no immediate response, but fixed an unreadable gaze on Lucy again, his eyes doing well to pick her apart. Lucy felt like she was going to burn under his eyes, till Barsad spoke up again.

"Bane, you may want to see this." Barsad had finished rifling through her bag when he came across a curious, leather bound journal, and after taking a peek through its pages, he unexpectedly found something of significant worth.

Lucy's breath lurched in her chest as her book of secrets, so to speak, was handed over to Bane. He took note of the anxious look on her face with a subtle turn of his eyes and did not relinquish his hold on her, as he held the journal open in his hands to a certain section. Lucy didn't know which, but that didn't matter as every single section was of equal importance. Lucy watched for any indication in Bane's eyes of what he was reading and felt an unsettling turn in her gut when his eyes looked back at her, glittering like he was extremely pleased with what he read.

"You are truly not in your proper place, child. Not yet." Bane stated, slowly closing her journal with its leather marker in nestled in between its pages. Lucy felt her stomach drop as she did not want to learn where her 'proper place' was supposed to be or whether or not he was going to do something about it. But then he added something on that both brought comfort as well as fear into Lucy's heart. "Do not fear, little one. We will soon find that place."

Lucy swallowed the lump that formed in her throat. It troubled her that she was unable to decipher what he meant by any of that. But before anything else could be discussed, the man that had been working on the computers informed them that the police had blocked the cell phone tower outside, deeming whatever he was doing slower than they needed it to be done. Lucy was reminded then of John and silently hoped that the police were going to do much more than block their signal, but then again, her hope for Gotham's law enforcement has always been small.

"How long?" Bane asked.

The henchmen looked at the netbook where a gauge bar was filling up with a percentage underneath. "Eight minutes."

Bane went silent for a minute, nodded his head and said. "Time to go mobile."

And before Lucy could comprehend her incoming predicament, Bane released her shoulder and moved to grab her upper arm. Bane started to drag a silently unwilling Lucy alongside him, as he and his henchmen started to rapidly pack up to, as Bane says, 'go mobile'.

More frightened screams filled the air and Lucy frantically craned her neck to see more hostages being unwillingly carted off as she was only she was having difficulty keeping up with Bane. She dared not struggle with him, in fear of her arm snapping underneath his hand, instead she could only stumble over her own two feet as Bane led them out onto the lobby and through the security checkpoint. She felt her stomach turn at the sight of the fallen security guards, their bodies lying in awkward angles, and was forced to look away as she stumbled after Bane once more. All of sudden, Bane stopped short in front of the doors of the building and Lucy was given a moment to catch up with herself. Lucy turned in a fast, confused circle, her eyebrows furrowing together as she saw a number of motorcycles parked around her.

"What-"

Before she could finish her statement, Bane hoisted Lucy off her feet by the back of her jumper, finding brief amusement from the look on her face, and roughly dropped her onto one of the motorcycle, as though she was as light as a feather. Lucy straightened up as much as she could only to be jostled about again as someone mounted the bike behind her. She stiffened, thinking it was Bane, but across from her, his hulking form was already settled on another motorcycle, a horrified hostage situated in the same position Lucy was in. Lucy looked behind her, finding Barsad in the process of putting his helmet on. He paused and met Lucy's eyes for a moment with a blank look.

"Here." Was all he said, shoving her beloved bag into her lap. She instantly clutched it to her middle, but it felt significantly lighter and emptier. Her hands ran a course over the material and it hit her. Her journal wasn't in there.

Bane still had it.

"I would tell you to hold onto something," Barsad's accented voice broke through her thoughts, slightly muffled as his helmet hindered his voice a bit. His arms came around either side of Lucy to grasp the handlebars and the motorcycle revved to life. But the rumbling did nothing more than rattle the twisted nerves in Lucy's gut, as she came to grasp the full situation. "But I am afraid that falling off this bike will be the last of your worries."

The cold humor in his words distressed Lucy and her fingers clenched onto her bag as she turned her head away from Barsad and gained perhaps the next best view. Outside, a number of squad cars surrounded the front steps and hundreds of police officers with all of their guns pointed and aimed for the first thing that would cross outside.

Lucy paled and felt her stomach drop.

"Stay together, brothers. We do not need to lose anymore men, or catch any strays." Bane told his men one last time before the revving of motorcycle engines took over the air.

Lucy's hands shook and her head swam with a muddle of thoughts over how she could become part of this. Her thoughts raced back to just this morning and she briefly recalled to mind when John told her to stay out of trouble.

_Too late._

**Alright! So Bane finally made his entrance! WOOT WOOT! I'll be honest, he seriously has become one of my favorite villains, equal if not a bit cooler than the Joker, in my opinion of course. I wonder if any other writers on this site find it hard to write about Bane, because I feel like I want to make sure I don't deviate from Bane's characterization seen in the film and such. Anyways, he's really cool to write about and I realize that this chapter ended in the middle of the stock market chase (BTW, I don't think they called it Wall Street in the film…I just couldn't remember its name) and for the record this whole chapter is twelve pages in Microsoft Word and is over five thousand words…so…**

**Anyhoots, I really hope you all enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it! **

**Please feel free to oblige me with reviews! I would seriously love them as they encourage me and show me what you all think. Also, feel free to make suggestions. **

**Till next time! Visit that review box! Do it!**


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi everyone! So to start off this author's note, I want to say how incredibly thankful I am for all of your extremely supportive and helpful reviews! There are no words to completely describe my gratitude and how excited I was when I saw how much response I got from the last chapter. I guess you all love Bane that much Don't worry, I do too!**

**So, without further ado, also noting that I do not own anything Batman or Nolan-verse related, please enjoy this chapter **

Chapter 7:

Five minutes.

It's been nearly five minutes since John sent his text message to Lucy and he was starting to fear the worst. Call him paranoid, but Lucy never hesitated in responding to messages, especially in dire situations; and while this has been named a hostage situation, John had enough hope in Lucy's wit and skill that she could do little things, like type a simple text message, unnoticed.

But there was the downfall that, perhaps, this was not the case. The thought made John clench his jaw.

"Blake! Get over here! Now!" Foley, who now had to hold his tongue from too many condescending remarks, stood by John's squad car and urgently called to him.

John peered down at his phone once more before reluctantly putting in his pocket. He joined Foley on the opposite side of the car and mimicked his post by unholstering his gun and crouching behind the open door of the squad car, taking aim at the doors of the Wall Street building. John gave a quick sweep of the street and took in the surrounding area. Almost every exit route had been closed off with road blocks, except for one of them where a freight truck was still parked in the way. Besides that, the police were in position and doing all that they could to make it near impossible for the gunmen to escape. This put some part of John's worry at ease.

John faced the doors again and readjusted his hold on his handgun, as his palms starting to sweat out of anxious anticipation. The minutes seemed to tick in his ears as he and the GPD waited in vigilant silence for even the slightest bit of movement from inside.

"I got something!" One of the cops declared minutes later.

At that, every gun came off of its safety and every finger was positioned over the trigger. The front doors slowly inched open and out came a group of stock market workers with their hands held up in a surrendering fashion. The guns lowered an inch or so at this, but no one, especially John, was prepared to fully pull their aim and focus away, no matter if the sight of the seemingly unharmed hostages allowed for some breathing room.

John warily eyed the group as they moved forward little by little. His eyes dissected and picked through the crowd in case the felons try to make a break for it by disguising themselves among the hostages. But also, if there was the slightest possibility that Lucy was in that group, walking alive on her own two feet, then he'd be able to take that small breath of relief.

But that breath of relief was going to have to wait, as John caught a flicker of something moving in the center of the crowd, and apparently, he wasn't the only one.

"Hold on! I've got something! Got something!" Someone started to shout.

No sooner than when that was said, did the sound of engines pervade the former quiet air of the street and everything suddenly took a shocking turn. The crowd of hostages suddenly parted like the Red Sea, each of them diving for cover as motorcycles, bearing the gunmen, tore down the steps. Momentarily stunned, the police didn't react in a very proficient way, letting their guns run loose with their bullets aimed messily at the general vicinity of the motorcycles.

"Stop!" Foley started to shout above the echoing gunfire and waved his arms to get everyone's attention. "Stop! They have hostages on them! I repeat they have hostages! Stop shooting!"

The cops were forced to put a stop to their onslaught as the motorcycles flew by, the panic-stricken faces of the hostages flashing quickly and helplessly in front of them. But amidst all this, John's eyes locked onto only one of the motorcycles zooming past him that held one hostage that could never go unrecognized by him.

"Lucy?" John questioned loudly, afraid to think that the worst had occurred to Lucy. But when the hostage turned her head at the last moment and gave John a straight glimpse of her face, his fears confirmed that it was indeed Lucy staring back at him. "Lucy!"

John felt something kick start in him and he was soon running from beside his car and following the motorcycles as they made their way towards one of the exit routes. Lucy saw him following and it looked like she was trying to shout his name, but it became muted as the motorcycle she was on gained speed and drew farther and farther away. John pushed himself to go faster but found that it wasn't enough for the motorcycles were already escaping off the road blocks like they were simple ramps. He stopped running, as he knew it was pointless to do so now as the motorcycles were racing away too fast for him to chase on foot. He forced himself to look Lucy in her frantic eyes before she was taken too far from him to make any more contact and silently swore to her that he wasn't stopping just yet.

He gritted his teeth together when he saw Lucy nod her head once and turn her glistening eyes away. John turned on his heel with sharp swiftness and booked to his squad car, ready more than ever for a chase.

* * *

Lucy was holding on for dear life.

This was no exaggeration, nor was this the proper time to be exaggerating or joking for that matter. Only mere moments ago, was Lucy in the line for a hail of wild gunfire from the very people who were supposed to be saving her and now she was unwillingly still an accessory to a criminal escape. Lucy could only wonder why and where she went wrong.

The motorcycle rumbled loudly beneath Lucy and sent an unsettling rivet through her that reminded her of just how real her predicament was. She felt the motorcycle jerk to the side and Lucy was forced to open her eyes, unaware that she had closed them in the first place.

The air blew up in her face when she turned to look forward, her hair whipping into disarray and her eyes tearing up from a mix of the drying air and a plethora of rattled nerves. She struggled to stay seated, as her hands had long ago abandoned their hold on her bag and were currently clasped tightly on Barsad's forearm and the front handlebars as leverage to keep her steady. But with every jolting twist and turn of the slowly blurring downtown streets, Lucy found this to be even more difficult to do; and soon the blurry streets became the long expanse of Gotham's highway—at rush hour.

Lucy sucked in a deep, uneasy breath and felt the urge to squeeze her eyes shut again, as they started to rapidly switch and merge into multiple lanes, bypassing and weaving through angry drivers and their cars. Suddenly, Barsad took a deep turn and weave that almost made Lucy lean too far and slide right off the motorcycle. She gasped as her boot grazed the pavement and she immediately scrambled to straighten up. In her right ear, despite the honking and rushing of everything else, she could distinctly hear Barsad laughing at her. But Lucy had no time to scowl or even think about that, as the sound of police sirens quickly took over. She looked over Barsad's shoulder and saw police cars turning onto the freeway and running down the streets right after them; and just overhead, a helicopter was trailing behind. For a moment, Lucy felt a glimmer of hope, until Barsad suddenly punched the speed of the motorcycle up again.

_How fast does this damn thing go? _Lucy thought shakily, as her breaths started to become shallower.

_Apparently fast enough to put a good distance between them and the police_. Another voice in her muddled thoughts answered her, putting a downer on Lucy's glimmer of hope as she watched the police cars momentarily disappear from her line of sight.

She gulped and closed her eyes, trying to convince herself to think positive for just a minute. But when she opened her eyes again, she realized Bane was no longer driving in front of them, instead, he had dropped his speed and now was level with Barsad.

"Hand me the girl." Bane said, his mechanical voice still capable of sounding imperious and menacing despite the muffling helmet and the fact that they were still driving down a busy highway.

Barsad nodded his head once, disregarding Lucy's wide eyed look and moved so quick that Lucy didn't have time to realize what he was doing next. He immediately let go of one of the handlebars to grab her by the arm and roughly tugged her off the bike. Lucy's breath caught in her throat and her heartbeat lurched in her chest as she thought she was about to make a face plant into the pavement. But as that sick sensation of falling started to swirl in her stomach, a huge hand grabbed her by the underarms and pulled her up.

"Now is not the time to be panicking, little one," Bane's voice echoed in Lucy's ears as he set her in front of him on his motorcycle.

But despite Bane's words, Lucy was far from not panicking. As Bane circled his arms around her to grab onto his handlebars, Lucy could only pray harder that some higher power was going to help her out here; and just as they drove into a tunnel, it seemed Lucy's prayer were heard.

The lights in the tunnels suddenly started to flicker and die out one by one, eventually bathing them in darkness. Lucy craned her neck over Bane's enormous shoulder, but soon realized it was too hard to see anything at all. But she did hear something.

It was an engine, rumbling lowly with a powerful ferocity that told Lucy that this was not a motorcycle or a police car. Lucy squinted her eyes, struggling to make something out, and in a short instant, Lucy caught onto a black mass that was moving after them at an incredible speed and had not one doubt in her mind who it was.

"Batman." Lucy breathed, with a hint of hope in her voice, as it occurred to her that the chase had truly begun.

Bane seemed to have heard her, yet he did not make any vocal response or any visible response for that matter. Instead, he applied a significant amount of pressure onto the gas pedal and surged them out the exit of the tunnel. When they were back on the open highway, Lucy looked behind Bane again, this time only three of his men had made it out if the tunnel with Batman exiting only seconds later. Lucy could only imagine what Batman had done to those left behind.

They dashed down the highway at law breaking speeds, but Lucy was sure it was nothing compared to what the Batman could do. But even when Batman started to gain on their trail, Bane never spared a glance to check how much distance they were losing. Lucy didn't think he could push the speed limit on the motorcycle any more then he already did and seemed sure that this was the end of the line for Bane and his men.

But this thought only rendered Lucy unprepared for when Bane suddenly stepped down on the brakes as he turned around and started to go in the complete opposite direction of the chase. Lucy was utterly confused and nervous now as she watched the rest of Bane's men zoom by them without acknowledgment and Bane started to deliberately drive towards Batman and the police.

Lucy grabbed onto the front handlebars with one, shaking hand while the other rested in a fist on her lap, refusing to touch Bane. She apprehensively looked forward as the black billowing mass of Batman was barreling straight towards them with the police not too far behind. For a split second, Lucy wondered what was running through Bane's mind. If any of this was part of his plan, or if he even had a plan at all. But these thoughts were quickly dispelled, when Lucy heard the sound of the Batpod drawing closer to them.

Lucy felt a rush of hope at the sight of the Batpod pressing onwards down the highway. She thought this was it. That she didn't have to be part of any of this for a minute longer. That she really would be getting out of this alive.

But her hope was shattered when Batman drove right past them. Against all common sense, he simply passed them. He didn't make any attempt to stop Bane or even make a U-turn. He didn't shoot at him or use something from his artillery belt. He just let them go; and the attempts from the police were no better. Even with the mass amount of man power the GPD had on the streets, they completely disregarded them as if they were normal citizens and were heavily bent on chasing the Batman now instead of the real armed robbers.

Lucy couldn't believe it.

The incredulity and shock of it all put her whole mind and body at a standstill, in which all Lucy could think about was the moment she watched Batman, her last hope of escaping this, disappear from her sight. Lucy racked her mind for a something that could explain Batman's actions to her and it soon occurred to her that he was most likely going for the laptop that had the stolen information. But despite how legitimate that sounded, it didn't make Lucy feel any better. In fact, it only made her feel like the prayers she had uttered during this whole ordeal were suddenly thrown up in the air and deemed useless.

But wallowing in self-pity was something Lucy couldn't do at the moment, not when Bane was right behind her, seeming to enjoy watching the oblivious police cars race by on the street a few mere feet away. Lucy shook her head as the blind chase continued and forced herself to look away. But all that stood in front of her was a gaping entrance to an underground pathway with a vaguely unfamiliar stench rising out to greet her.

Lucy could only guess to where it led.

**I pray that was good and accurate recounting of the stock market chase where we finally see Batman again. I'll be honest that I am not the greatest proficient at writing action sequences such as these, so this chapter was a particular one that really worked me over some and was thorn in my side for the last three days or so. However, I feel quite satisfied with my work and hope that you are too **

**So till next time, leave your comment below in that gorgeous review box!**

**P.S. More Bane in the upcoming chapters.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Hi! First, I apologize for the delay of this chapter. I just wanted to make sure it was a good quality chapter before I posted it. So thanks for all the new follows, favorites and reviews! You guys are awesome and really encouraging! Thanks!**

**So, as usual, I don't own Batman or anything Nolan-verse. I just own Lucy.**

**And before I give you permission to enjoy this chapter, I am dedicating this to ****ZabuzasGirl ****for being so damn patient with me and even PMing me about the progress of the chapter! Thank you!**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 8:

_Drip._

_Drop._

_Drip._

_Drip._

The steady, rhythmic pitter patter continued on faintly as Lucy finally started to come to. Her eyelids lazily slid open and all Lucy saw were dark, blurry shapes. Lucy thought she was dreaming, either that or she's woken up before John's alarm rang and it was too early in the morning for the sun to be shining. With that in mind, she was about to close her eyes again when her cheek was suddenly lightly struck by something cold and wet. Immediately, she blindly reached up with her hand and swiped it across her cheek. Lucy cracked her eyes open again and squinted at her fingertips, quickly realizing they were glistening with water.

_Water? What in the world?_ Lucy drowsily thought to herself before another cold, heavier drop of water landed on her head.

Lucy jolted up into a sitting position and instantly regretted moving too fast. Her head started to throb like someone had dropped a cast-iron pan on her head, and her eyesight was incredibly bleary. She groaned a bit and lifted a hand to her head, lightly pressing her palm down to suppress the throbbing. When she drew her hand away, she found it wet again, but not with water.

Lucy rubbed her fingertips together and brought them closer to her eyes, finding a deep, vivid red spreading itself on the pads of her fingers. As she looked closer, Lucy felt a lurch in her stomach.

_Is…is that blood? _Lucy thought, her thoughts making a scramble for reasonable explanation. _Why am I—Wait._

Lucy stopped short in her train of thought, as realization settled in. Her drowsiness instantly disappeared and her eyes shot wide open, taking in her unfamiliar surroundings. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, but it didn't take long for Lucy to realize everything was completely off.

She wasn't on the pull-out couch, but rather she was sitting on a lumpy mattress on a creaky, rusted metal bed frame. A rough, brown blanket sat tangled on her legs and her very own satchel acted as her pillow, the dried blood stains on its canvas surface confirming that. When she looked around her, she didn't see their quaint little living room. But in its place was a murky, dank concrete-walled space with a caddy corner filled with computers and TVs stacked on top one another, each flashing their own images and information. She could hear the buzzing coming from the screens, but as she listened closer, she could hear more: sounds of rushing water that mixed in with the sounds of deep, male voices in conversation. Following the trail of sounds, Lucy found herself looking out from the small creaking bed into a huge, circular space where a waterfall was crashing out of an opening near the ceiling.

Lucy craned her neck to see more, but couldn't. So slowly and cautiously, Lucy untangled her legs from the sheets and got up from the bed. Her legs felt wobbly and weak but she was still able to walk herself over to the rails just a few feet from her. She grasped the damp metal railing in her hands and hesitantly looked over, unsure of what she was about to find; and what she found, she was certainly unprepared for.

Below her, upon levels and levels of dirty concrete walls and floors, men of all adult ages were scattered about, guns slung across their bodies as they worked on a variety of jobs Lucy knew you would never see on the streets of Gotham. Lucy leaned further over the rail and saw that majority of the men were either down below drilling and pouring new concrete across the foundations or some were scaling the tall support beams and hooking wires and mysterious small boxes onto the circumference of the domed ceiling.

She leaned back over the railing and rubbed her eyes in complete confusion. Lucy tried jogging her memory but came up empty handed. Frustrated, she sighed deeply and squeezed her eyes shut, forcing herself to think harder because none of this made sense to her at the moment, and she desperately wanted to make sense of things. But as soon as the cloudiness separated in her head, everything started to rush back to her.

The stock market.

The highway chase.

The police.

Batman.

Bane.

Lucy let out a ragged breath as the recollections overwhelmed her mind. Yesterday wasn't some nightmare stemming from too many cups of coffee and her wild imagination. No. Yesterday was real. However, the last thing Lucy was able to recall was Bane driving them into that reeking entry way and everything after that goes fuzzy. But despite the fact Lucy forgot how she got here in the first place, she felt like she had a very clear idea of where 'here' was.

The sewers.

"I see you've awakened." An all too familiar mechanical voice hissed closely from behind Lucy.

Lucy felt her pulse jump in her veins and quickly pressed a hand to her chest to calm herself down as she turned to face the source of the voice. Out of the darkness, stepped the last piece of proof to Lucy that this was all indeed very much reality. Bane had long abandoned the jumpsuit and now donned a thick plated vest over his chest and a long, brown sheepskin-lined trench coat on top. Lucy much preferred the jumpsuit, at least then it only left one intimidating feature to the eyes—his mask. Now, everything else was out for show, emphasized and even more menacing than before. Lucy tensed and unconsciously pressed herself against the rails as Bane stepped further into the dim, artificial light of the sewers.

"Do not worry, little one. The disorientation will settle…eventually." Bane said, when Lucy's renewed bewilderment at his appearance put her at a momentary loss for words.

"Disorientation? I-I don't remember…" Lucy stopped mid-sentence, as she heard the foreign hoarseness in her voice for the first time since she had awoken. She felt a tickle in her dry throat and coughed a bit.

"Understandable." Bane said, referring to her unfinished sentence. "Regrettably, my men had no grasp on the concept of gentleness, and consequently, left you unconscious and bleeding from your head when they carried you here."

Her coughing subsided then and her hand automatically went to touch her throbbing head. She lightly prodded at the matted hair and dried blood, while she considered Bane's explanation. It was reasonable, as it filled in the cracks of her memory, but Lucy had strong doubts that a man of Bane's stature had any grasp on gentleness any better than he claimed his men did; and if she followed that same notion, Lucy suspected the possibility that perhaps Bane was the true cause of her injury.

"Injuring you is not my intention, little one." Bane suddenly said, as if he had read her mind, though his words were anything but comforting to Lucy.

She glanced dubiously at the massive man in front of her. _Then what __**is**__ your intention?_

"After all, that would be a terrible impression to make bringing you into our 'humble home'."

Lucy looked around at the grimy, damp surroundings with uncertainty. "Here?"

"Ah, yes. Quite the sight, isn't it." Bane said, strangely conversational, as he moved to stand beside her in front of the rails. Lucy fought the urge to shy away from his side. Instead, she gave a wary sidelong glance, as he hooked his thumbs into his vest and slowly gave a surveying look to the floors and workings below. "Do you feel satisfied, now?"

Lucy, taken back at the sudden unusual question, looked up at him. "E-Excuse me?"

Bane didn't return her look, but continued to look down at his men. "One would think that every curious minded writer needs proof to go along with their work." At this, he withdrew a very familiar leather covered journal from the inside of his jacket and held it up for her to see.

Lucy's eyes went wide and a soft gasp tumbled from her lips as her arm involuntarily reached out for the object on its own accord. But Bane's reflexes were much faster than Lucy had anticipated and he easily caught her wrist in his free hand, without so much a look in her direction.

"Hastiness will get you nothing here, little one." He said, as if he were chastising her like a child.

Bane let go of her wrist and Lucy let it limply drop to her side, but still managed to nurse it with her other hand. In her head, Lucy was indignantly contesting the hastiness remark. She was hardly ever hasty, but her subconscious had reacted before she could slap a lid on it; and unbeknownst to Lucy, Bane was aware of this, construing from her simple movement that her attachment to the journal was a little more than skin deep.

Lucy didn't say a word in response. If her accidental hastiness didn't get her anything, then what would questions and backtalk do for her? She watched in painful yearning as Bane simply took her journal and slipped back into his coat.

"You will learn, Miss Blake," Lucy froze at hearing her surname spoken by Bane, his mask making an ominous hiss as he did so, "You will learn that there are many things required of a soul like yourself to survive in the existing conditions, both here and in your _precious _Gotham. You will learn to be…" He finally turned to her then, a gleam appearing in his eye as he found the right word. "Adaptable."

Lucy shivered as he uttered that last word. She didn't know what to make of what he said, all of his words as equally ambiguous as they were unnerving. It was like a revisit to the stock market and like then, it continued to bother Lucy that she was incapable of figuring this out.

"Why adaptable?" Lucy asked, having carefully picked her two words carefully as she decided to finally test the waters of conversing with this man. But she discovered that gave her nothing as well, when Bane brushed off her question and simply stated something else far from the original subject.

"You will see. For now, little one, you must clean yourself up and find something more suitable to wear."

He lifted one of his huge hands and flicked his fingers in a beckoning gesture. Some shuffling footsteps were heard behind Lucy and she briefly wondered how long that person had been standing there. She turned around and came face to face with a young man, perhaps her own age, looking down at her. Lucy narrowed her eyes in an instant, realizing there was something familiar in his shaggy dark hair and eyes yet she could not put a finger on it. Plus, the dim lighting was doing nothing to help distinguish anything either. As her eyes trailed up to his shaded face, Lucy quickly realized that he was staring down at her in a similar fashion. They held one another's gaze for another short moment, before they were forced to drop the staring when Bane's voice cut into the air between them.

"You will take Miss Blake to the bathroom and back here straightaway. You are not to take her anywhere else and you are to stay at the door till she is finished. Ensure that she does not return here bloodied and unconscious. Understood?"

The young guard gave a curt nod to his superior, but Bane had already turned his back to them, facing the rails again, looking at his army down below. He waved his hand in a consenting manner that bid them with silent permission to leave.

They left Bane and perhaps the brightest area of the sewers to move into a darker, narrow hallway. Both were starkly quiet the whole way, the only sounds in the air coming from the distant echoing of Bane's men at work and the sloshing their feet made as they walked down the sewers wet floors. Soon, at the end of the hallway, they arrived at a stained, white-washed door that wasn't hanging quite straight on its hinges. It took a second for the young man to jiggle the knob around and get the door open, and when he finally did, Lucy took the single nod of his head as the invitation to go inside. Hesitantly, she walked in and immediately scrunched up her nose as she took in the unpromising look of the bathroom: grime-ridden, tiled floors, walls splattered with some grayish black residue, and a single toilet and sink that seemed to be relatively clean—she says that loosely.

As she moved further into the bathroom, the door suddenly swung shut behind her, followed by the sound of a lock sliding into place. Lucy whipped around in an instant and walked back to the door. She peered out of one of the cracks in between the door and the door frame and found the guard posted right outside, doing just as Bane had directed.

_They weren't taking any chances._ Lucy thought to herself.. _But then again, who would take chances with Bane in charge?_

With a deep sigh, she moved away from the door and towards the toilet, placing the bundle on top of the toilet seat. Lucy unraveled the bundle and was briefly surprised at the provisions given to her. Inside, there was raggedy, but clean, face towel, one of those tiny hotel-sized bottles of shampoo, a comb that was missing a few of its teeth and what Lucy hoped were mostly clean articles of clothing. They were basic necessities, but even then, she felt like she was being treated more as a guest than what the situation labeled her in actuality.

She shook her head, dispelling those thoughts for the time being and walked over to the sink, almost recoiling as she caught her reflection in the mildew-streaked mirror.

Lucy was-to be completely blunt-a bit of a mess. Her black hair was disheveled and tangled with dried blood. Tilting her head from side to side, she found a dried trail of blood down the side of her dirt-smudged face and prodded around her head till she pinpointed her injury. Thankfully, Lucy discovered that there was only a moderate sized cut on her head, one that would heal on its own and not need any stitches to do so.

"Well, I've had better days." She mumbled to herself, before putting her hand down and reaching for the provided items to get cleaned up.

In a short amount of time, Lucy had washed and wiped her face and hair clean of all blood and dirt, even going as far as untangling her damp tresses with the comb and gathering them into a ponytail. Afterwards, all that was left were the folded articles of clothing still sitting on the toilet seat. Lucy looked down at her own clothes and idly started to rub at the dried stains of her own blood on the collar of her blue shirt, before skimming over the rest of her attire. They didn't look bad as Lucy had thought—stained for the most part, but torn at one or two places, but they certainly weren't in the same state as they were when she left the apartment; and therefore, probably not in the right state of being re-used. But just as she resolved to change her wardrobe and reached for the clothes, a hard knock came down on the door.

"Are you done in there?" The husky voice of the guard came through the door.

Lucy looked over to the door for a moment before replying, "Er…Just a moment…I have to change…"

When silence followed her reply, Lucy assumed he was giving her the time she needed to finish up. So she quickly gathered the clothes provided and stripped out of her own, cringing as she realized she had a sickly bruise forming on her upper arms from the exchange at the stock market.

_I knew I'd get a bruise._ She shook her head and lightly prodded at the skin of her arm before yanking a navy blue undershirt over her head. It was followed by a loose, long-sleeved black pull over that kept slipping off her shoulders and showing off her slender neck and collar bones no matter how much she adjusted it. A pair of dark cargo pants soon donned her legs and her feet were comfortably still settled in her own boots. But what wasn't exactly as comforting was when she realized just how strangely perfect the pants and undershirt fit. Lucy didn't want to know how they got her size and she doubted any of these men had a size 0 waistline.

Pushing her discomfort to the back of her mind, Lucy glanced at herself in the mirror and deemed herself decent enough. So she gathered her old dirty clothes in her arms and walked over to the door, knocking on it to let the guard know she was finished. The door opened and she stepped out of the room in her new attire. There was brief passing of glances between Lucy and the guard, in which he took in her appearance and she tried once more to remember where she'd seen his face, before he turned away and quickly took Lucy back to Bane.

When they turned the corner, the young guard stood back at the entrance of Bane's alcove and let Lucy walk in on her own, her footsteps suddenly becoming significantly slower and more hesitant. When she looked up, Bane was seated on the edge of the bed Lucy had been sleeping on, his arms propped up on his knees while his fingers turned the pages of her journal. Lucy felt herself go stiff at the sight and concluded that she would never be used to anyone reading her notes after this.

"Ah, there you are." Bane looked up at the quiet shuffling of Lucy's footsteps and took the leather marker, putting it in between the pages of her journal as if it were a book he was going to be reading later. He stood up and walked over to Lucy and placed his hand underneath her chin, tilting her face up towards the light so he could see her refreshed appearance, perhaps the only one he'd get to see down here. "Much better, little one. Much, much better." He observed, sounding pleased.

"Thank you…I suppose." Lucy quietly replied, unsure of anything else to say to him.

At that moment, a few of Bane's good men came into the alcove. At the sight of his men, Bane let go of Lucy's chin and brought her to his side, his arm resting across her shoulders. Lucy agitatedly glanced at the hand on her shoulder for a moment, unable to understand the gesture. It was neither possessive nor restraining. It was—she didn't know what it was. But it was there and it looked immovable.

"Are we prepared to leave, Barsad?" Bane asked.

_Leave? _Lucy questioned, masking her curiosity as she looked towards the cluster of Bane's men standing before them, each of them looking almost as intimidating and hardened as their leader.

Barsad, whom Lucy quickly recognized, stood at the head of the group and stepped forward.

"Yes, sir, Dagget is on his way back from the board meeting, now." He informed him, Lucy's ears perking up at the name.

"Perfect. Come, we must return to the surface." Bane stated. Without another word, he started past his men and led the way into a different passage with a Lucy still in tow.

"Where…where are we going?" Lucy finally built up the nerve to ask. Bane had not relinquished his hold on her shoulders but continued to lead her alongside him to ensure that she did not fall behind or stumble.

"To your first lesson, little one." Bane answered simply.

"Lesson? On…on what?"

Bane seemed delighted by her question, but said nothing at all.

**Oh Lord! Aish! Where is he taking Lucy! What is this first lesson! Why am I writing like this!**

**LOL**

**You all know the drill: reviews are not required, HOWEVER they are one of the few things that brighten my day when I am holed up in my room writing.**

**So if you all would be so kind as to review!:)**

**Till next time! Bye lovelies!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Hi everyone! So thank you so far for all the support you have been giving me! I am finally heading back to school on Monday so I've been buckling down and preparing myself to go back. But nonetheless I have here for you a new chapter! Let me forewarn you that this does have spoilers from the film and that I also don't own any of that!**

**So enough small talk! On with the chapter!**

Chapter 9:

Rubbing at his eyes, John simultaeneously attempted to parallel park his car without hitting those in front and behind him, whilst unsuccessfully trying to rid himself of his existent drowsiness. A half-hour of sleep was not the ideal night's rest John needed, but with incidents of the previous day constantly refreshing themselves in his mind, John would be so lucky as to have received at least ten minutes of sleep.

He finally put his car into park and glanced at his rear view mirror, taking in the sight of reporters starting to accumulate like moths to a shiny light at the entrance of Wayne Towers. John sighed, knowing what they were waiting for, as it should be known that he was waiting for the same thing too, albeit more covertly and with good reason.

In the meantime, John sipped at his lukewarm coffee and picked up the hot-off-the-press copy of the Gotham Tribune sitting in his passenger seat. Batman had made the front page, while the newly resurrected Bruce Wayne was pushed to page eight with his company suddenly going bankrupt. John didn't have to read the full article to know that all of this couldn't be easily chalked up to coincidence. Batman didn't suddenly reappear the day after Bruce Wayne did, and Wayne Enterprises didn't suddenly go bankrupt the day after the stock market onslaught. And, on top of all that, Lucy was missing. Gone. Kidnapped. Possibly injured or worse. But once the possibilities dawned on him, John refused to think about them. Instead, guilt formed and became a knife in John's side, blaming him for not doing more than he could have—then again, what could he really have done at the time?

But the guilt was short-lived as he realized early on that despite the ill-fated circumstances, he still had a job to do.

So accepting that he was solely left alone with not only the Commissioner's cases but with finding Lucy as well, John knew he needed to buckle down and find a place to start; and he felt he knew where that may possibly be.

John threw another glance at his rear view mirror again, this time he could see that something had started to excite the mass of reporters. Without a single doubt in his mind, John threw back the last of his coffee and folded up the newspaper before getting out of his car. As he stepped onto the sidewalk, he could easily pick out the unmistakable figure of Bruce Wayne standing at the entrance of Wayne Tower, looking uncharacteristically lost as the press started to close in on him with their persistent questioning and cameras. For a moment, John wondered why Bruce hadn't made any effort to move, but as he drew closer he realized Bruce's Lamborghini was in the process of being towed.

_Guess the bankruptcy hit very close to home. _But it also made John think he arrived at an opportune time.

"Mr. Wayne!" John called out above the raucous of the reporters. Bruce turned and instantly recognized Blake, which John took full advantage of. "Looks like you need a ride."

Bruce sent a fleeting look towards his silver Lamborghini being put on the hook, before turning back to John, sheepishly nodding his head. "Sure."

With some skillful dodging, Bruce escaped the clutches of press and followed John to his car, ignoring the increasingly louder uproar that followed him as they briskly walked away. Without time for a word, they quickly got into the car and did not strike up a conversation till they were safely away from Wayne Tower.

"Quite the commotion, Mr. Wayne," John said, breaking the silence.

"I suppose a 'thank you' is in order, then, Officer Blake." Bruce replied, watching as the crowds grew smaller and smaller in the side-view mirrors.

"It's no problem, Mr. Wayne. And it's Detective." John said, quietly adding the correction to his title on the side.

Bruce turned to him. "What was that?"

"It's Detective John Blake now. The Commissioner decided to promote me." John explained, before questioning, "And speaking of the Commissioner, have you seen him yet?"

Bruce shook his head and replied, "I've been back in Gotham for two days, not much time for anything really."

Despite how much John was convinced that what Bruce said was an understatement, he feigned nonchalance and simply commented, "Well, you sure do make quite a re-appearance, Mr. Wayne."

"You'll see I have a knack for doing that." Bruce easily replied.

John briefly peered at Bruce out of the corner of his eye. Only a few mere sentences and questions in and John already felt that the conversation was becoming much like the one they had at Wayne Manor: spoken and understood in codes and implications.

"The newspapers are having a field day with me, aren't they?" Bruce said, unexcitedly picking up the newspaper John was reading earlier off the floor of the car and unfolding it, pursing his lips disappointedly at the article—but which article, John didn't know.

"Yeah, well I wouldn't take them too seriously," John said, when he saw the look on Bruce's face, "The Gotham Tribune might be the first out with the story, but they are real shitty when it comes to accuracy and details, at least that's what Lucy says all the time," John added, before he himself realized what subject matter he brought up by accident.

Bruce, on the other hand, continued to make his own comment as the recollection of the precocious young woman he had only met once seemed to have brought a pleasant feeling to his stresses. "Ah, I remember her. How is Lucy? She must be having the time of her life with all this news."

Waiting for his reply, he turned to John but didn't expect to see him so tense all of a sudden. His hands were clenched tightly on the steering wheel and his young face looked overwrought and bothered.

"About my sister," John began, taking a deep breath and shaking his head, as he slowly ground out, "She is missing."

There was a small pause, in which the conversation took a serious turn. John wasn't sure if bringing her up at all was a good idea, but like all other times, he ran with his gut; and he knew in his gut that by entrusting Bruce Wayne with what happened to Lucy, he wasn't just entrusting Bruce Wayne alone.

"Missing?" Bruce repeated.

John nodded, looking stiffly out the windshield, as he started to hash out the explanation, "She went to stock market yesterday, looking to write down the updated stocks and investments, like she usually did. But somehow she ended up in the cross-fires of the thieves and the police. Lucy turned out to be one of the hostages they made off with in their escape and for some reason, they chose to keep Lucy instead of discarding her when they were done…I just…have absolutely no idea where, though."

"Shouldn't you be telling this to the police, instead of me?" Bruce quickly interjected, trying to not sound cold and indifferent.

John let out a bitter scoff and shook his head. "I would but they all think that every hostage got out alive, injured at the worst, but all easily accounted for." John paused for a moment and shed a sidelong glance at Bruce, "They're too busy to look for anyone else because they were all bent on hunting down the Batman, instead."

Bruce visibly stiffened for a moment before quickly playing it off with a simple question, "So what do you plan on doing, Detective?"

John sighed and racked his brain for a general list of things, "What my job description so painfully enforces; gather what I can, follow up on all my leads and pray to some higher being that someone other than me is looking out for my sister…wherever she is."

Bruce's eyebrows knitted together in thought and John could only assume that he knew what Bruce was thinking about. A prolonged silence ensued till John spoke up again.

"Mind passing the message along, then, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce could only nod.

* * *

Lucy hadn't the slightest idea of where they were at the moment.

This, along with what Bane had left her to ponder in the sewers, worried her.

The 'surface' to which they returned, turned out to be a back alleyway in between a cluster of tall skyscrapers—that much told Lucy that she was still in downtown Gotham, perhaps in the business district near Wayne Tower, but still quite a distance from home. She briefly looked around, attempting to find something recognizable to her, but the narrow walls of the back alleyway hardly offered her much to look at in the first place. When she turned around again, Bane's men were in the process of replacing the cover of the manhole and Bane, who had been keeping a close eye on her, extended his arm to Lucy, a silent command to return to his side.

When the manhole was quickly covered and Lucy had returned to Bane's side, albeit unwillingly, minimally wincing as she felt her shoulders sag underneath his bulky arm, they entered through what looked like an employee entrance and loaded onto the nearest upward bound elevator.

Lucy very much so had her growing need to ask where in the world they were, but on account of the fact that she was in an impersonal, cramped, tense and, for lack of better word, awkward space in which Lucy could feel a gun prodding at her lower back, Lucy had to rule out the questions till the right time.

And what better time came when she felt the elevator come to a jolting stop and a distinct 'ding' announced their arrival. The doors slid open and Lucy could easily tell that they were in a type of high-class lobby area and a large sign above the front desk easily told Lucy of their destination: Dagget Industries.

Lucy knitted her eyebrows together at the sight of the vaguely familiar name, recalling the very same name printed on those construction files John had brought to the Commissioner; and as far as she knew of the name Dagget, she knew it was the only other major company in Gotham, besides Wayne Enterprises, rivals, if you will. But despite what little she happened to know, the questions of what she didn't know settled themselves at the forefront of her mind. For one thing, why were Bane and his men here?

Her question was put on hold as Lucy turned her attention back to the present time. There was a single young secretary manning the front desk, but to Lucy's surprise, she did not look up or even acknowledge their presence when Bane led them into the room, deliberately heading for the secretary's desk.

"Mr. Dagget is not in for the day, can I take a message?" The secretary droned, in a bored tone, as soon as they came to stand at the front of her desk.

"Yes," From the moment, Bane's voice hissed through the mask, Lucy knew he had caught the secretary's attention and she felt fear for the unsuspecting secretary. Her upper body stiffened and her pen dropped her from her hand, yet she still did not look up. Perhaps, she was afraid to look; Lucy clearly understood that. "You can tell Mr. Dagget that he will be in need of a new secretary very soon."

At that, the secretary's head slowly lifted up, eyes wide in fear as she took in the massive figure of Bane and clearly looked regretful at not noticing the first time. Lucy could see the corner's of Bane's eyes crinkling, as if he were smiling at her fear. The secretary was at a loss for words, as she turned her gaze to his men, who were obviously dwarfed compared to Bane but with their guns, they were almost just as intimidating; and when the secretary turned to Lucy, Lucy could easily see the pity in her eyes, despite not knowing Lucy's identity but somehow saw that she did not belong there.

"Leave. You are relieved of your work here." Bane said unquestionably, clearly hinting to the secretary to beat it; and that she did.

She was out of her rolling chair and scurrying out of the room, before Lucy could count to ten. Bane made a noise behind his mask that sounded as though he were pleased with the exit he elicited from the secretary, but perhaps, it also went to show just how much control over things satisfied Bane.

"Come now, little one," Bane steered Lucy away from the front desk and casually strolled into the pair of doors standing right behind the front desk. Lucy looked over her shoulder, wondering if Bane's men were coming also, but all of them had suddenly scattered and were no longer in sight.

Unsure of what all this could be amounting to, Lucy decided now was a good time for her to think of distracting thoughts. But just as they stepped into a large, lavishly furnished office, Bane relinquished his hold on Lucy and she found a question, driven by her damned curiosity, tumbling from her lips.

"W-why are we here, exactly? At Daggest Industries?"

Bane, who had taken to a bookshelf on the opposite side of the room, glanced at the young girl standing tentatively where he had left her side. She looked much like a meek little mouse, as she unconsciously stared wide-eyed at the extravagant room. But nonetheless, he was pleased to see that she had figured out their location out on her own, taking the little things said and seen here and there.

He didn't answer her question but beckoned her over to him once again. Lucy faltered, uncertainty of the current situation making her want to keep a distance from Bane. But when Bane asserted another 'Come, little one,' Lucy complied.

"You will see our purpose, child," Bane simply told her once she stood by him.

But no sooner than when he said that, did Lucy hear someone slamming a door open followed by a string of curses that made Lucy feel like covering her ears to preserve her innocence. She questioningly peered up at Bane, but saw a knowing look in his eyes as if the sudden disruption was what he expected.

Lucy partially feared that that's exactly what it was.

"What the fuck is this?!" A very incensed male voice shouted, breaking even through the thick walls of the office.

"Where is Ellen?!" Lucy assumed the voice was referring to his secretary who had high-tailed it out of there long ago. "Ah! Forget it! What the fuck does a man have to do to take over a damn company!? Apparently, grow a pair of breasts and be a fucking woman?!"

In that instant, the doors to the office were violently flung open, making Lucy jump a bit behind Bane. A man, Dagget, most likely, by Lucy's construing, angrily stormed in with a submissive looking man following close behind, neither of them paying any attention to the two others in the room.

"Wayne Enterprises should be in the palm of my hand by now! Not Miranda Tate's! What is she doing? Sleeping with the guy?" Dagget ranted, pacing back and forth, catching Lucy's attention.

_Wayne Enterprises? What does he mean by that it should be in his hand not…Miranda Tate's? The Wayne clean energy project partner? _Lucy silently questioned, trying to internalize these facts as they were coming. She glanced at Bane again but realized he looked basically unreadable now, narrowly glaring at Dagget's turned back, and didn't seem like he was going to answer any of her questions at the moment…or any moment for that matter.

"You know what, Stryver, this is complete and utter bullshit." Dagget concluded before waving his hand to his assistant. "Get Bane on the phone right now, I want to have a word with that man."

"Speak of the devil…" Bane's hissing, articulate voice cut in and resonated loudly over Dagget's ranting, putting things at a standstill in the room, "…and he shall appear."

Their presence finally being noted, Lucy watched as Dagget whirled around on Bane, his face contorted and red, while his assistant, Stryver, hung back, gulping at the sight of Bane. Dagget, however, seemed much less afraid of Bane, to Lucy's complete surprise and confusion, as he strode right up to the towering man.

"Bane! What the fuck is going on?!" He demanded.

"Why, everything is going according to plan," Bane merely answered.

"Plan? Plan! No, no, the plan was that you and your little army rob and drain the Wayne Enterprises' stocks, therefore giving my company the perfect place to slip in and take control," He said to Bane, speaking slowly as though explaining his plan to a little child. "Not, drain Wayne Enterprises so Miranda Tate can come in and take over instead? You see the problem here? I did not hire you to be complete moron!"

A silence prevailed, in which Lucy found herself scrambling about in her head, trying to grasp everything Dagget had just spewed. Everything she had just heard placed a new perspective in Lucy's head, showing her that none of what happened the other day was purely coincidence. However, one thing Lucy couldn't fully grasp, like Dagget, was why Mr. Wayne would simply hand off his company to Miranda Tate.

Meanwhile, it occurred to Lucy that Bane had been retaining an uncomforting silence, tacking Dagget with an unreadable stare. Lucy felt a cold shiver run down her back as she recognized the look and knew that nothing good was going to come of this.

Bane turned his eyes up to Stryver for a moment and commanded in a deep, domineering voice, "Leave us."

"No!" Dagget objected, stopping Stryver before he could leave the room. "If anyone should being leaving us, it should be your little bitch right there." Dagget said, jabbing a finger in Lucy's direction, making her recoil from the insinuation. "Stryver is my assistant. I am in charge." He asserted.

Bane briefly patted Lucy on her shoulder when he saw her recoil, less than pleased with Dagget's choice of words. He slowly turned to Dagget and laid his hand, almost gently yet menacingly on his shoulder, "Do you feel in charge?"

Stryver didn't have to hear or see anything else before he took his swift leave. Lucy's breath caught in her throat as the turn of things became evident in Dagget's face. His demeanor shifted to that of fear and despair and it was like all of his pompous, vulgar words flew out the window.

"I-I paid you a small fortune," Dagget insisted.

Lucy could see his knees start to buckle underneath him as he slowly started to crumble underneath Bane's penetrating glare.

"And you think this gives you power over me?" Bane inquired, seeming to move his hand on Dagget's shoulder the slightest bit, making Dagget flinch.

"W-what are you?" Dagget asked in a fright-filled, quiet voice.

_Famous last words._

"I am Gotham's Reckoning."

Lucy took one last pitiful glance at Dagget's terror-stricken face before Bane had it covered with his hand; and suddenly, without any warning, there was a series of sickening cracks and crunches that became merged with Dagget's last awful, pain-filled screams. Lucy's blood ran cold as she couldn't stop herself from witnessing the life leave Dagget's body.

Finally, after what seemed like a nightmarish eternity, Bane let Dagget's lifeless body drop ungracefully to the floor, leaving it in its mangled state. Lucy's hands shakily came up from her sides to press against her mouth to muffle the horrified scream that would have taken place, as she numbly caught a glimpse of Dagget's bloodied and broken facial features, at least what was left of them that is.

In her petrified state, Lucy watched as Bane reached down and pull Dagget's pocket hanky out of his jacket to clean off his hand, before carelessly tossing it over Dagget's unidentifiable face. He then reached into his coat and pulled out her journal. Bane turned to Lucy, drawing her clenched hands away from her face and placed her journal in her hands instead.

"Write." He told her.

Lucy looked up at him, mortified and unable to erase from her mind what she just watched him do to a man in front of her eyes.

"W-why…" Lucy weakly mumbled.

"Authority is a skewed and often narrow-minded belief, little one." Bane stated and gestured to Dagget's crumpled body, "Different means of authority give power over certain people. Sadly, his means were inadequate…for me."

**So how was that? Bane says he hopes this was adequate for you, and you know what else, he says you should tell him how adequate this chapter was for you in a review!:)**

**Yes, I know, I am using Bane's insane skills of convincing to get reviews but hey, you all love him anyways! So why not show him!**

**LoL I am just messing around, you all don't have to review unless you feel like it **

**Till next time!**


	10. Chapter 10

**Ok, so let me begin by…wait…*gets on her knees* by begging you all to please forgive me for being so tardy with this chapter. I'm terrible, I know, I know. But seriously, my school did not hold back when I went back on the first day. These first few weeks, I have literally been buried beneath piles and piles of work for my AP classes and Dual Credit. It's driving me nuts. But I didn't forget about all of you! So without further ado, here is the chapter.**

**BTW: I do not own anything applicable or owned by Batman or the epicness of Christopher Nolan.**

**Go!**

Chapter 10:

They were in sewers again.

She sat, curled up, alone on the same bed she had woken up on hours ago.

And Bane and his men were nowhere in sight.

But Lucy was too distant from her own senses to tell when they had gotten back, where anyone had gone or how she even managed to move here without her own consent.

Witnessing a murder can do that to a person; render you unresponsive and simply oblivious to all else, especially, if you shouldn't have been around to see the act in the first place. But then again, there was a load of things racing around her head that were far more worthy of her attention than simply figuring out the little in-between details; feelings that were giving Lucy a hard time to put a finger on. Guilt was one of them; obviously not for being the death of someone—literally—but for being the idiot that stood by and did absolutely nothing, frozen by the circumstances.

Lucy thought it was ridiculous for her to feel this way. She wasn't supposed to be the one to feel the remorse for Dagget's untimely end. She wasn't supposed to be the one _learning_ from Bane's crime.

_But was it a crime?_ A voice that sounded much like Bane's pervaded her thoughts.

Lucy ducked her head down and pressed her hands against her temples, trying to get some means of control over her scattered mind.

_Authority is a skewed belief…his means were inadequate…_ the voice echoed again.

Lucy beat her hands against her temples one more time before dropping her hands back to her lap, the back of her hand brushing against leather. Her eyes dropped downwards, where, coincidentally, her journal was sitting conspicuously opened by her bended knee, the next physical reminder of recent events.

_Damn me for wanting to stay updated with __**everything**__ in Gotham._

She pursed her lips together before finally reaching out to grab it. Immediately, as she lifted it up to her lap, the front flaps opened and pages seemed to have naturally turned on their own accord. When they settled down, Lucy found herself staring at her own writing, but barely remembering that she wrote any of this at all in the first place. It was a typical profile entry…for Dagget.

Lucy gulped as the words started to seem jumbled together, unrecognizable as even her own handiwork. But only two things really stuck out to her and were of some importance. Under Dagget's name, was a wallet sized newspaper clipping of his face. But now all it held was a large red 'x' over the entire photo. Lucy couldn't remember when that mark was made, nor could she remember when a single word was neatly scribbled underneath the photo: _Deceased._

Something else Lucy was hardly meant to do: claim people dead or alive.

"I'm not a damn mortuary." Lucy unconsciously grumbled aloud.

"Well, I would hope you weren't."

It quickly registered in her head that she wasn't alone at the moment. Barsad stood much nearer than the sound of his voice gave off.

"No need to stay quiet on my account. Bane wanted this given to you." He said, nodding his head down towards a tray in his hands, and Lucy shook off her momentary surprise to eye the tray warily.

Barsad walked closer and dragged a small table that was leaning precariously on a gimpy leg towards the bed. Lucy sat up a little straighter, but stayed quiet and still sat up against the wall as she watched him put the mysterious tray down, finally giving her a glimpse of its contents. Lucy couldn't help but lift her eyebrows in bafflement.

Seeing her expression, Barsad chuckled. "Food. Something familiar I believe."

Lucy gave a short nod.

_Familiar, indeed. _

What Lucy assumed was a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a water bottle was a sight for sore eyes. It may have been a day or so since her last meal, which was a lot more than some can say, and she had no idea just how hungry she was till now. But despite her hunger making itself known, Lucy made no immediate movement to reach for the food in front of her.

"Eat." Barsad urged her, trying to curb her hesitance.

"Why? Should I consider it my last?"

"If you were meant to be dead, you would be by now." Barsad easily replied, before insisting once again. "Now, eat. Unless you are willing to take this as your last meal, then you must keep your strength down here. The chance to eat like this may not come again. Consider a gift."

Lucy curiously considered his words before finally relenting. She took the sandwich off the plate (plastic, as Lucy didn't expect anything else) and started to take small careful bites. Once again, Lucy was taken back at the sheer sense of civility she was getting around here. It was a severely abrupt shift and it confused her. Wasn't she supposed to be a prisoner? Now, the complementary bathroom visit and somewhat sufficient meals? If Lucy didn't know better, she would say it was as if Bane and his men were babysitting her. But of course, she did know better, and knew that this was far from the case.

"What am I doing here?"

Barsad looked up from the streaking patterns on the concrete floors to the girl. She hadn't spoken out subconsciously like she did earlier; she was sitting up a little straighter now, sandwich half eaten, and looking right up at Barsad, her question still hanging in the air.

"You're eating."

"No. I mean…Let me rephrase….**why** am I here? Yes, that seems much better." She muttered the last bit to herself.

Barsad opened his mouth to respond and found himself spewing something of an automatic, well-used reply; something he's said many times: "Bane's orders."

"They're the law down here, aren't they?"

Truth be told, Lucy had hit the nail straight on the head. Barsad was no closer than she in figuring out Bane's intentions, though, unlike Lucy, he was sure of one thing. Bane was a man with a plan. He was meticulous and he hardly ever shared the stepping stones he took on his own to make their goal possible, not even to Barsad. This was no different. But he never had any use for prisoners…if Lucy was even that.

"How do you do it?"

Barsad didn't give an answer but his facial expression was enough question for Lucy to elaborate.

"How do you do it? Follow him without question. Watch him…" She paused, looking for the right word, but failed miserably to find one so she stayed silent and let imagination run wild for that one.

Barsad did well to fill in the blanks himself. He very well knew what she was referring to. But he also knew that the situation was a whole lot more complicated than she could understand. Barsad saw Bane's bigger picture; grasped it wholly and completely. It was the 'bigger picture' that plucked him from the dumps; his saving grace you could say. Something he was convinced Lucy would never understand and wouldn't waste time on explaining it to her. And while he was partly right, she probably wouldn't see things their way right now, but she did know what a saving grace was; she has one herself.

"Just like you follow your _precious_ Commissioner." He said, emphasizing with a hateful spat to the ground, making Lucy flinch.

"It's not the same."

"Isn't it?" Barsad wasn't asking for her approval; Lucy was aware of this.

"It's **wrong.** All of this!" Lucy reasoned, flinging her arms out to emphasize just the general largeness of the imminent problem.

And much to her disbelief, Barsad didn't so much consider her words, but took them as lightly as a joke. In fact, he chuckled.

Lucy incredulously stared up at the skinny man whose droopy eyes were glittering in amusement, before blatantly demanding, "Do you have a conscience?" She crossed too many lines in her questions to back out now. "To watch murders…crime. To take part in it? Shoot people down—don't think I don't know that those guns are more than intimidation—and let Bane do what he does. It'd be a wonder that your conscience lasted this long."

Barsad stopped. He was taken back.

"Do I have a conscience?" Barsad reiterated, never having the opportunity to ponder his own morals till now; their business wouldn't allow it. "Doesn't every human being?"

Lucy curtly shook her head at him. "Human beings are different in their own ways, I suppose. But right and wrong hardly changes. **None** of this is remotely humane in any shape or form."

"Luckily, I am no mere human, child."

Lucy pressed her lips together in a hard, white line and stiffened, while Barsad took up an attentive stance. Bane's hulking form bled out from the shadows, eyes squinting down at Lucy. Her posture fell and her hand calmly placed the uneaten crust of her sandwich onto the plate as she felt the air around her shift and a familiar feeling roll down her back.

Barsad didn't have to be told it was his time to leave and he did so without so much a syllable leaving his lips. Lucy watched him go in the corner of her eye before turning her stare back to Bane. Lucy had seen him enough times now to be able to hold a short stare with him; after all, she has officially seen worse.

The mask hissed.

"You have something to say to me, child."

Lucy shook her head and pulled her knees back up to her chest again, resting her chin on them. "No."

Bane lifted an eyebrow. "Lying won't get you anything either."

"Neither will backtalk." Lucy quickly stated almost ironically.

There was a beat of silence, during which Bane came to stand before Lucy, arms folded behind his back and mask hissing once more, "You are taking this much better than I had expected."

Lucy bit back a look of incredulity and opted for a quiet answer, "I don't know what you could have expected from me watching someone die for the first time."

"Ah, you don't seem to be wallowing in self-pity or crying from terror."

_I am on the inside._

"Point being?"

"Point being…" Bane began, turning away to face the rails. From the back, Lucy thought he looked like an imperial ruler of some sort; she was in the right mind to think he looked that way to those down below looking up. "Point being, little one, is that your mind is far more resilient than you think."

"Resilient?"

Bane nodded, "You underestimate yourself too much, child. You are blinded by what I believe you called your conscience earlier."

Lucy lifted her head, an eerie feeling settling in her nerves at the very thought of Bane having heard almost everything she must have said to Barsad. She wondered then if she would be treated like a real prisoner for her frankness. At least then, she would gain some comfort in knowing that that's all she was: a prisoner; and not what he's been making her out to be, almost a tool in whatever devious plan he has down here.

"Blinded by it? I would think it made humans…human." Lucy said quietly.

Bane chuckled, an ominous sound. "You and the people of Gotham believe too much in humanity."

"What reason do we have that tells us otherwise?" Lucy asked.

Bane turned back around. "You will be disappointed. Everytime."

Lucy didn't have anything to say to that. She felt sick with herself because she actually considered hat he was right. Lucy knew that humanity wasn't perfect, but she wanted to believe that every endeavor to make it so, were ones of good reason and goals. But the more Lucy sat down here, enclosed in the dark wet walls of Gotham's underbelly near perhaps the most dangerous threat she has ever seen, the more she was forced to think otherwise. And it didn't bring her any comfort to know that Bane knew so much of everything. A criminal was one thing. But a knowledgeable one is an entirely different story.

Bane is an entirely different story.

"Was the food sufficient enough?" Bane suddenly asked, taking an abrupt turn of conversation.

Lucy shook away her thoughts for a moment and nodded her head once while looking at the plastic plate, "Um…yes, it was."

"You didn't eat the crusts."

Lucy looked down at the brown edges of bread she had avoided out of habit. "I-I don't eat crust."

Bane nodded his head curtly before suddenly walking away, blending back into the dark shadows as quick as he had come. Lucy stared at the spot where he was standing moments ago, wondering if she had spoken to him at all, before laying her head down to sleep. Her thoughts were being merciful and seemed to be putting themselves in order by themselves, but even then, she sustained a headache. This was still too much for her. Bane thinks too much of her if he thinks she could take all this in so easily.

She couldn't.

She won't.

When she awoke hours later due to another terrorizing nightmare, Lucy found, sitting on the leaning side table, another tray with a water bottle and a sandwich—without its crusts.

**Please tell me that was satisfactory. Please. Keep in mind I wrote this after being practically brain dead from a crap-load of homework….which you don't care about…but whatever. **

**You all know the drill! **

**Please leave a review expressing your thoughts, likes, dislikes, hope, dreams, etc…nothing to weird, please!:)**

**Till next time!**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey, guys! I am back from my weeks long leave of absences. Yes, I apologize for leaving you all hanging for so long, but thank you for being patient with me! School really has been loading me up day and night, where I just want to curl up under my covers and sleep for hours. But honestly, you don't really care about that…so all I have to say about this chapter, aside from the obvious disclaimer, is: **_**Be careful little ears what you hear.**_

**Camille: Places! Someone do the disclaimer! Hurry! Now!**

**Lucy: Yeah, I don't think I can do it from where I am…there is terrible service down here…and I don't have my phone.**

**Camille: Fine. Since our main character finds herself incapable, I will pass the disclaimer to more capable hands. **

**Joker: Hehehe hahaha hoohoo….yes, un-fortunately…bird girl here doesn't own any of this precious information about Batty Boy and that Nolan fellow…**

**Lucy:…But he's not even part of this story…**

**Joker: Do you want me to be? **

**Lucy:….**

Chapter 11:

There weren't enough hours in a day that would give John Blake a chance to be both Detective and Big Brother. That, sadly, is one of the unspoken stipulations of living in the great city of Gotham. It practically ran on its own off-track and completely messed up clock, handing out no advantage to anyone who actually needed it.

It was much harder than John had anticipated. Since John Dagget's body had turned up in a dumpster two days ago, he's been sweeping the streets of Gotham to follow up on his high stack of Dagget- related reports. Unfortunately, all of them were completely misleading and brought John to dead end after dead end, making him trash several files faster than he'd like. By the end of another wasted day of chasing invisible trails, John was desperately ready for some shut eye and dragged himself over the threshold of his apartment.

Then he stopped.

His jacket continued to slide off his tensed shoulders, as he remembered that the apartment was empty. He was alone. Without a second thought, he silently pulled his jacket back on and left the same way he came, shutting the door a bit more forceful than he intended.

It hardly fazed him that it was almost nine o'clock at night and in Gotham that was late. Sleep could wait. Finding anything concerning Lucy's whereabouts was a priority to him. Admittedly, he wasn't really making much progress on his own and thus, he was ready, though reluctantly, resort to the more traditional way of dealing with Lucy's disappearance.

The Gotham Police Station wasn't the most appealing building. Though, it would seem that it wasn't meant to look pretty. Nonetheless, John still found it to be a sight for sore eyes, since he hadn't been back around as often since his promotion, yet…here he was. He gave the dull, gray building a once over before walking straight in. With a flash of his still brand new badge at the front desk, John ambled back into his old workplace.

It was apparent that he hadn't been away long enough as he was recognized and greeted by officers left and right as if he had been working there all day. John gave a tightlipped smile and shook hands with partial enthusiasm for the sake of cordiality before making a beeline toward the other end of the office space.

"Well, well, well, look who decided to come back for a visit." A man, who seemed to have the same amount of years under his belt as John, instantly stood up from his seat to greet John. "_Detective John Blake._ You don't look half bad in the suit!"

"Ha. Thanks." John said with a weak smile as he shook the hand of his former field partner, Ross. "It's good to see you, man."

"Same. What brings you back to the precinct?"

"What else brings someone back to this place?" John replied, with a shrug. "Did they find you a new partner yet?"

Ross shook his head. "Nah, I've been assigned to train some of the incoming rookies. Babysitting really. That's one of them over there." He nodded his head in the direction of the coffee station, also known as the social circle, where a young, blond haired and bright faced fellow stood laughing and conversing with other colleagues on break.

"Doesn't look like that bad of kid." John observed.

"Typical rookie. Reminds me of us when we started." Ross mused.

"A bit cocky but mistaken?"

"Exactly." They nodded in agreement before turning away. "So, what can I do for you, Blake?"

John rubbed a hand on his chin before ducking his head and lowering his tone of voice to a volume only audible to Ross's ears. "I need to report a missing person."

It left a bitter taste in John's mouth having to say that; having to admit it out loud, really. He knew it would have been more responsible of him to report it the very day Lucy went missing. But he would be lying if he said he didn't think her disappearance was nothing but horrible dream and she was probably traversing through the city on her way home at this very moment. But he should have known better.

Ross sensed the shift in John's voice and nodded his head, "Sure. Give me a second." He returned to his desk and sat down in front of the computer. He tapped at the keyboard and clicked on the mouse a few times, accessing the precinct's system.

"Name?"

John clenched his jaw and breathed deeply. "Lucy Blake."

Ross froze and he drew his hands away from the keyboard, as if he were scared of typing in the name. "Lucy? Lucy is…" He swallowed. "Lucy's missing? What—how did…"

"Just…please type it in. I'll explain right now."

Ross did as requested and quickly entered in all of Lucy's information. Ross had only met Lucy enough times to know two things: what her general features were and how important she was to John. And despite his fairly accurate estimations on height and hair color, it took some of John's input to know what her 'defining features' were: a birthmark of three little dots clustered under her left ear, a pink scar on her right knee from when she tripped on the side table of the living room, and she bites her nails, if anyone cared to look further.

"Do you have a recent photo?"

That was stupid question. Of course, John had a recent photo of Lucy. He dug his hand into his back pocket and fished out his wallet, having no issue in finding Lucy's graduation photo. She wore a bright red cap and gown, diploma in hand, her neck weighed down by her honorary medals and tassels, while a bright smile sat on her face. He gave the photo a proud smile before handing it to Ross, who shared the same reaction. Ross put the photo face down on a scanner and loaded her photo onto the computer. A short time later, Ross had a full missing persons' case. He hit print and flyers started to feed out of the printer, continuously depicting Lucy's face in dull gray and black ink. When the printer gave a finishing wheeze, Ross took up the warm stack and handed them to John.

"Do you have an idea of what happened? I can't believe Lucy would be…I mean, she's a smart girl…"

"I know." John sighed, glancing down at the flyers in his hands. "She…was just at the wrong place at the wrong time." Another glimpse of her smiling face made him grumble, "Why did it have to be her?"

"Where was she taken?"

"She was at Wall Street the day the stock market was attacked." This elicited a very vivid recollection of that day. John suppressed a cringe.

"I thought all the hostages were retrieved?"

"Obviously, they missed one." John muttered.

"God, if I knew…"

John paused and looked at Ross, "What do you mean?"

"Every unit was called to the scene that day, John. If I had known Lucy was there too, I would have checked for her. I'm sorry." Ross said, shaking his head.

"It's not your fault," John sighed, knowing now that there was no blame to share. "The attack completely blindsided us and we didn't act as fast as we should have. There's nothing any of us could have done." He painfully admitted, remembering the look on Lucy's face as the gunmen drove her out of his reach. He couldn't figure out why Lucy wasn't disposed of when they gunmen made their escape.

None of it made sense.

John scratched at his forehead, pondering this till he realized that it made no sense because he had been forgetting a crucial point. What exactly went on **inside** the stock market exchange? It had been in the back of his mind since the moment Lucy never texted back that day and he couldn't believe he didn't consider it till now.

John sharply turned to Ross then, a new look of urgency on his face, "Ross, can we access the security footage from the stock market attack?"

"I think so. Hold on." Ross returned to his desk, seeing where John was going with this, and started to access all of the password locked files as fast as he could. "Got it. Here it is."

Ross pushed his office chair over a bit so John could come around the desk and see the screen. The fuzzy image of the security footage depicted the normal chaos of Wall Street for a few minutes before the violent hail of gunfire turned the situation into a dire hostage one. Everything that followed were simply visuals that went along with the some of the accounts the police had gathered; most of it was true to its interpretation: the gunmen, the hulking masked man, the face planting of a Mr. James, almost everything. Almost. The only thing that was left vague by the witness accounts was what **exactly** happened to Lucy; and no doubt John was about to find out.

It wasn't too hard for him to find Lucy. However, it was hard for him to watch her be roughly manhandled and pushed around. He kept reminding himself that she is a strong girl as he forced himself to look on. He knew that he couldn't expect the worst out of this because she was clearly alive when they came out with her. However, he was about to eat his words.

The worst did come.

The worst came when the little body of his baby sister was brought before the masked man, who completely dwarfed her by feet and turned her into a mere speck on the floor. John was in the right mind to think that that was Lucy's general feelings at the moment. But with her back to the camera, John couldn't accurately tell.

But then again…there was a load of things you could never accurately tell from a security video.

However, what he could decipher did nothing more than stir disconcerting feelings in the pit of John's empty stomach. Violating…sickening…angry…all this and more. But suddenly, all else managed to slip into the gray backdrop of John's mind as he forced himself to lay eyes on the masked man for more than a mere second.

He almost wished he hadn't.

For if he didn't, he would have never caught the unsettling glint in the man's eyes that resonated even through the fuzzy video footage.

It wasn't lecherous.

It wasn't devious or even remotely evil.

He looked at her…simply…with purpose.

* * *

"Such an interesting choice, my friend."

A woman sat at the side of the creaky bed on which a curled up Lucy still slept, dreaming empty dreams. She, like Lucy, looked as though she were out of place here. Her pale, unmarred features holding something of grace and elegance, eyes glittering beautifully, and a petite figure that spoke a direct contrast to the less than appealing view of the sewers and the brooding man who commanded it. Yet, there she sat so comfortably, so daintily, as if this place was her home.

"I am glad you find my choice…adequate." Bane breathed as he stepped out of the shadows, watching as the woman looked over Lucy with a curious look in her eye.

"Oh, your judgment is always sound, of that I am sure," She affirmed, "However, tell me something." The woman turned to Lucy and with a gentle hand, brushed her hair out of her face. "What is the purpose of this…this little pet?" She said, brushing a finger down Lucy's cheek and smirking when she felt Lucy twitch underneath her cool fingertip.

Bane's eyes narrowed, "Looks can be deceiving. She is no pet."

"I have yet to understand why." She said.

"There a very few people in the world who can grasp the things she can and not lose themselves in the process. She doesn't speak much, however, I know she has much to say. She is a complicated creature, not easily broken, but…she is an avid learner. She seeks knowledge." Bane explained.

"You seem so fascinated…and by a child at the very least." The woman chuckled.

"Enlightened is a better word."

"Enlightened or not, I hope you understand there is no reason for you to be distracted by your little…students. There is still much for us to do, and she cannot become an obstacle in our path to succeeding." She said solidly, standing up and approaching Bane with not a hint of hesitance.

"You must think so little of me to think that a child could be a distraction." Bane said, sounding uncharacteristically insulted.

"On the contrary, I do think highly of you, my friend." She said, lifting her hand to touch the cold metal of his mask. "But I was once your child too or have you forgotten?"

Bane narrowed his eyes and shook his head. "I will never forget."

She smile and removed her hand from the side of his face only to be replaced by her lips; and despite the thick barrier, Bane seemed to have felt the gesture anyways.

"I trust you, but as I have said, we are so close, my friend. So close." She emphasized her words with piercing look in her eyes. "And if this child is to be of use to you, then so be it." The woman left him and sat down on the side of the bed again, stroking a hand down Lucy's face and resting it upon her arm. "Harden her as you will, Bane. Teach her to defend herself. But not with her fists. She is too much of beauty to have that taken from her. Gun handling will do just fine for her."

Bane nodded his head once, heeding to her wishes.

"She must be prepared," She looked tot Lucy and uttered in a low, cold whisper, "There is a storm coming, dear child, and the ship of Gotham shall be overturned…**permanently**."

The whisper drifted over Lucy's skin, gooseflesh subconsciously rising out on her skin. The woman reached out and tucked more loose tendrils of black hair behind Lucy's ear, giving an approving look over Lucy's features. Nodding her head once, she silently stood up, straightened her jacket, and turned to Bane who had momentarily bled out of sight.

"Come now. If I spend any more time down here, suspicions will rise. Come, take me to the surface."

The exchange ended with her curt request and they took little time in fulfilling it. They left down one of the many passage, leaving behind them the rhythmic beating of their light and heavy footsteps. It was not until the footsteps became mere echoes that Lucy finally shifted on the bed.

Eyes opened.

Face was unreadable.

Lips pressed into a white line.

Ears clinging to every…single….sound.

**So I finished this after going to a Midnight Movie Night Event for my school choir and we went to go watch Taken 2 (fantastic movie by the way, Liam Neeson is incredible as always) so I am in that mode where I am over actively tired…if that makes any sense….**

**But whatever….at least I got a chapter out to you…**

**Enjoy…review…whatever you like…just don't steal it…or I will find Liam Neeson and get him to hunt you down…**

**Joking…But really.**


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey everybody! So there is obviously no excuse for my incredibly long leave of absence. Seriously, I would not be surprised if you all thought I died or disappeared from the face of the earth. But, nevertheless, I am still here and alive and well. But deathly busy. I will leave it at that, sparing all of you the grueling details of my educational predicaments. I felt bad with leaving for so long, so I did the best I could with this chapter. So without further ado, and in recognition of the fact that I do not own anything in the Nolan-verse Batman plot lines or characters, please enjoy!**

Chapter 12:

… _the ship of Gotham shall be over turned…permanently…_

Lucy shivered and curled up into a tighter ball.

_God save whoever created analogies, because that was nothing short of foreboding._

To be honest, she wished she hadn't heard it at all…it would have spared her all of the apprehension and anxiety that was beating at the walls of her chest. But then again, being down here for only God knows how long tossed Lucy into an abyss of things she could have gone without.

And would it be so mistaking of her to assume that all the blame could be placed on arbitrary chance?

Yes, it would. For awhile, Lucy thought she could believe that. But now, hearing the strangers' unsettling words, hearing them say that she would be of use to them…Lucy couldn't deny herself the truth. She couldn't lie to herself. Her hope was diminishing to mere flickering candlelight, and her list of things to believe in was starting to shorten, which, by the way, wasn't that large to begin with.

Lucy dug her face deeper into the crook of her elbow, eyes screwing shut.

She didn't want to think of this anymore. She should. But she didn't want to.

Sleep, that's what she wanted to do. That's what she needed. It seemed to be the only thing that brought her solace and calm down here. Closing her eyes and picturing home was comforting. Far better than opening her eyes and seeing the muck-streaked walls of Bane's kingdom…her prison.

So Lucy squeezed her eyes tighter and started to count towards the better place in her mind.

_1…2…3-_

The numbers stopped short at the sound of a low clearing of the throat. She went stiff, unsure of the new presence. Barsad would have spoken to her and Bane would have known straight-away that she was awake. Neither of them would have made their presence known so…passively. But that only made Lucy's wariness grow a little more. Seconds passed, Lucy didn't move and at the second clearing of the throat, it was apparent that the other person hadn't either.

Lucy reluctantly yielded and slowly sat up, expecting to see some mangy, sewer rat staring down at her with some perverted hidden agenda up his sleeve. But, no. There was no hidden agenda up this someone's sleeve…just a tattooed trail of words on lightly tanned skin, disappearing under the sleeve of a thick black coat. Her eyes trailed away from the tattoo, brushing over the tray in their hands, and settled on the owner.

_Hello…_

He was fairly tall and lean, with angular cheekbones and a strong jaw. He had his lips pressed into an indifferent line with a set dark eyes and black hair that mimicked the shine of Lucy's. He was young, perhaps, just as young as herself. Dare she say, he was handsome too, had it not been for the current circumstances.

Neither of them said anything straight away. But that didn't stop Lucy from studying him. There was an odd sense of recognition itching at her mind the longer she continued to look at him. When she lifted her eyes to his face, she was met with a dark gaze that seemed to be doing the exact same thing.

_CLANK!_

Both of them started at the sudden noise. Behind them, workers were dropping chains down from the ceiling and the metal was beating loudly against the walls, providing explanation for the sudden raucous. Lucy and the boy simultaeneously released a breath but Lucy was the only one who was remotely relaxed. The boy, on the other hand, seemed to only tighten his features and abruptly set the food on the side table.

Lucy's brow wrinkled as she peered at him from the corner of her eye. He had moved away from her quite quickly, positioning himself a distance away from her with his hand placed precariously on the gun resting on his hip. She pursed her lips at the sight. It was a given that everyone, except for Lucy, was armed down here. But 'armed and dangerous'? That was a generalization Lucy could not make about him. It just didn't…well…fit.

She shook her head at the thought and turned away, realizing she had been staring a lot longer than she should have been. Lowering her eyes, Lucy glanced at the sandwich sitting in front of her before picking up half of it and taking a bite out of it. Silence settled as Lucy ate and came to terms with the fact that she felt strange being personally guarded. Barsad had only stuck around the first time, other times…he would leave her to eat and ponder her position in peace. Now, in the periodic glances Lucy gave, she would find him looking right back at her, just as equally unwavering as she was.

Lucy felt like she should say something, but what was there for her to say? Casual conversation was not exactly something she could strike up at the moment. But as she slowly came to finish the first half of the sandwich, an opportunity for conversation arrived.

"Would you like this?" Lucy quietly offered, holding up the other half of the sandwich out to him.

He looked momentarily taken back.

Lucy pressed her lips together, feeling the awkwardness in her words, before trying again. "Are you a mute?"

He shook his head slowly before replying, "I am just supposed to deliver your food to you and stand guard till you finish."

Lucy pursed her lips, but didn't lower her hand as she challenged, "But did they tell you that you couldn't speak to me?"

"Well, yes," He answered automatically, before stopping himself to think, "…No. Not really, but they—"

"Then?" Lucy lifted an eyebrow.

He contemplated for a moment, cautiously looking around them despite the fact that no one was paying even half a mind to what they were doing. Finally, he relented with a sigh. His stance relaxed and he pushed his gun behind his back as he walked over and pulled an old crate over, turning it upside down to use it as a make-shift chair.

"Thanks." He said quietly, taking the sandwich from her hands.

Lucy nodded her head in acknowledgment and let him eat in peace. She wasn't sure how well Bane fed his men, or if he actually fed them at all. From what she has seen, having three meals a day seemed to be of secondary importance, but, in this case, it looked like he needed at least one meal today. And Lucy didn't mind giving it, even if she didn't know if her meal arrangements would change tomorrow.

"My name's—" Lucy started, feeling the need to fill the quiet air between them with something.

"Lucy Blake. I know." He cut in, brushing his hands on his grease and dirt-stained jeans. "Everyone here knows who you are." He added on quietly.

"You know my name, but I don't think it's quite fair that I don't know yours."

"I'm not as important as you are." He simply replied, looking at his hands.

"Give it a shot. You might be surprised." Lucy countered with a surprisingly small coy smile.

The corner of his lip twitched as he nodded. "Okay…Fine…The name's Will."

He cordially held out his hand and Lucy took it in her significantly smaller, colder hand. "It's nice to meet you…" Lucy stopped short with his name in her throat, her eyebrows knitting together, "Wait…wait did you just say that your name is Will?"

He nodded slowly in confirmation.

Lucy's eyes widened and she immediately dropped his hand. She snapped her finger as if her internal light bulb was flashing bright red and yellow lights. "Will…Will…Where is it?"

"Where's what?" Will asked, confusion wiping across his face as Lucy started to scramble about the bed. Her hands were patting down the lumpy mattress and Will had to lean back as she suddenly threw the blanket off her lap. "What—what are you-"

"Hold on." Lucy muttered just as she wrapped her hand around the canvas material of her bag. She pulled it onto her lap, stuck her hand inside and started to fish around. Her hand pushed through paper and an array of pens till she finally found what she was looking for and pulled it out. Her journal sat in her lap as she rapidly undid the leather strap and haphazardly flipped through the pages.

_Where is it? It's in here. I know it is…_

Finally, impatience took control and Lucy just opted to flipping her journal upside down. She shook it up and down, its pages swinging back and forth till a photo fluttered out and landed on her lap. Lucy's eyes lit up a bit as she put her journal aside and picked it up. She turned the photo over and around in her fingers, till the image of Lily, from the orphanage, and her brother was upright and clear in the light. Lucy held the photo at eyelevel with Will, who, by the way, still sat utterly confused. Features matched and looks fell into place and Lucy could not say that she was in the least bit mistaken.

"Do you have a sister, Will?" Lucy asked, not looking away from the photo.

He hesitated, taken back. "How did you know?"

Lucy looked up then and turned the photo around. "Is this her?"

The photo was wrenched from her hands and for a moment, Lucy thought she had upset him somehow. By the way he was tightly clutching the photo and intensely staring at it, it was a possibility. But when his brow relaxed and slow breath escaped his lips, Lucy knew he wasn't upset, only surprised.

"Where…where did you get this?" He asked, his tone almost demanding.

Lucy was about to explain, about to put some relief into Will's mind but in the corner of her eye, an undeniably recognizable hulking mass was moving toward them from the corridor. Lucy sucked in a breath and didn't have to think twice before she slid herself backwards till she hit the wall.

Bane strode into sight far quicker than Lucy had anticipated, leaving little to no time for her to warn Will. But Will became quite aware of his leader's presence the moment Bane's shadow loomed over his back. Will's head whipped up and in the next instant he was scrambling up from his seat, accidentally turning the crate over and hitting the side table in the process.

"S-sir, I— I was just…" Will stuttered, hastily pushing the photo of he and his sister into his back pocket.

Strangely enough, Bane didn't pay him any mind, and instead, he lifted his hand and flicked it in a flippant, shooing gesture. "Leave us. Return to your duties."

It was that short, simple command that made Will quickly disappear from the room. Lucy stared in the direction he left, part of her praying that this wasn't the end of their conversation. Reluctantly, she finally looked to Bane. He stood at the edge of the bed, his fingers hooked into his vest as he peered down at her.

"Come here, little one." He beckoned to her with a curl of his forefinger, before walking over to the rails.

Lucy swallowed her apprehensiveness and slowly stood. She straightened herself up, masking the cringe that came with the movement of her sleep-stiffened muscles as she edged her way over to Bane's side.

"Tell me, child, if a hunter is aiming in a straight path to shoot at a monkey who is hanging from a tree top, will he hit him?" Bane asked, his eyes studying his men who moved like worker ants on clockwork down below.

"No, he doesn't." Lucy answered immediately, her mind returning to her physics classes from junior year. She was no scientist, but physics was something she understood. However, how it applied to the current situation, Lucy had yet to find out.

"Good." He said, nodding his head, "Now, do you see that padlock hanging from that chain across the way?"

Lucy looked where he directed and did, indeed, find the said padlock dangling from a swinging chain suspended from the high ceiling. "Yes."

"Good. Good." Bane affirmed.

Lucy dubiously stared at the swinging lock, too distracted to see Bane reaching into his pocket. Before Lucy could fully react, Bane wrapped his colossal hand over her wrist, turned her hand over and laid something in her palm. He let go of her as quick as the ephemeral shock passed; and she found her brow wrinkling at the sight of a dark brown, antiquated looking sling shot and an assortment of old marbles and rocks sitting in her palm.

"Now," Bane started, lifting his hand and gesturing to the padlock and chain, "Take it down."

Lucy looked up at him down to the slingshot in her hand in bafflement. "I…I don't think—"

"Excuses are not your forte, little one." Bane said. "You must try."

Lucy didn't reply, instead, she studied the slingshot for an extra second before she tentatively took hold of the slingshot's handle and loaded the rubber band cradle with one of the marbles. She gave Bane one more cursory but doubting glance before raising her arms and taking aim. With one of her eyes shut, Lucy pulled back on the rubber cradle, and when the padlock was in focus, she released the marble and let it fly.

It flew through the air, but struck the railing far below the intended target. Lucy pursed her lips in disappointment.

"Hm," Bane hummed through his mask, his silvery eyes narrowing on the unscathed padlock. He turned to Lucy, "Try it again. Take your aim."

Lucy obediently reloaded and resumed her former position. She was about to release the marble again when she suddenly felt Bane's hands press down on her shoulders.

"Square your shoulders," He directed, before reaching around her to delicately lift up her chin, "Keep your head level. Now try it again."

Lucy stilled in her adjustments, shaking off the chills that came with his touch, and took her aim. She again released the marble, but this time it barely grazed the chain before striking against the concrete wall behind it. Lucy released a breath of exasperation, as she dropped her arms and let them hang by her sides. She looked up and found Bane staring patronizingly at her.

"Tell me, child, how does one expect to succeed if one does not even try?"

"But, how is one to try if one does not know what they are trying for?" Lucy countered.

Bane's silvery eyes suddenly hardened and he gave her no answer. Lucy fought the urge to glare at him, defiantly tightening her jaw instead. With her left hand wrapped firmly on the handle of the slingshot, Lucy turned and solidly planted her feet, angling the slingshot upwards at a slight angle with both of her eyes open and narrowed. Without a second thought or reconsidering glance at Bane, Lucy pulled back on the cradle and let the marble rip.

_Chink!_

Lucy felt relief grace her body as she watched the small glass ball strike on target. The lock broke at the instant of contact and she watched in gratification as it fell away from the rattling chain. Her eyes followed the lock as if it fell in slow motion and finally landed on the bottom floor, bouncing a few times on the concrete before skidding to a stop at the feet of Bane's workers, who briefly stopped their work to look up in curiosity.

Her moment of self-satisfaction was short lived however, when the sound of clapping reached her ears. She turned her head to see Bane looking upon her with something of chilling pride in his eyes.

"Very good, little one. Much better than I thought." He said, stopping his clapping. "Now, let's see how you are with a gun."

**So? Look, I know that this isn't as impressive as my other stories but hey, at least Lucy found Will. I am satisfied with this chapter and I hope that you are too…Fee free to tell me in that review box below. Actually I have some questions I'd like you to answer….**

**1: What do you think of my new character, Will?**

**2: What do you think is going to develop in between my characters after this? B/W Lucy and Will; and Bane and Lucy**

**3: Lastly, anything you like, dislike, or would like to see more of and I will try to get to you as fast as I can!**

**Oh! Also, I have to let you all know that despite the fact I am not giving up on this story at all, I cannot post as fast as you would like me too. I am extremely busy this year and free time to write is scarce but I take every minute as it comes. So I beg for your forgiveness as well as your patience…and maybe for your reviews as well…**

**Till next time!**

**Godspeed, my friends!**


	13. Chapter 13

**Hey everybody! So first off, I hope that all of you had a Merry Christmas and for those of you who do not celebrate Christmas, a Happy Holidays! Either way, I hope you all are enjoying your winter break, I know I am! **** And I usually try not to toot my own horn, buuuut, GUESS WHO IS NOW THE OWNER OF THE ENTIRE DARK KNIGHT TRILOGY AND HARRY POTTER SERIES? THIS GIRL! This girl right here! There was that and I got to see Les Miserables on opening day! So yay! So I was a little preoccupied with my revolutionaries and reacquainting myself with Bane and the Dark Knight crew. So, since I am still in a chipper mood, here is my winter gift to you all! A new chapter!**

**Please Enjoy!**

**And remember that I own nothing but Lucy Blake and all other unrecognized characters of TDKR.**

Lucy was a much better shot than she or anyone, for that matter, anticipated.

But there was no sense of pleasure, no shred of pride in her realization of that. Rather, she cringed each time she felt the cold metal of a handgun stabbing into her hip. She always thought that a female carrying some form of a defensive weapon was a symbol of feministic empowerment. But, when Bane pressed a 9mm handgun into her grasp, weak is what Lucy felt.

She could have said something in protest, finally make something more of herself to Bane. She didn't. She conceded to gun handling and she almost hated herself for it. It was as if somewhere along the lines of consuming sandwiches and bottles of water, she had swallowed her tongue…and the will to speak. But, if it was any consolation, she did get something in return. Bane finally left her with permission to roam the sewers.

That was three days ago and the only place she ventured to…was the bathroom.

But, in truth, she'd tell you it was time well-spent.

While she sat quietly behind the bathroom door, convincing Barsad or whoever saw her walk off that she was simply using the toilet, she reacquainted herself with the pages of her journal, having managed to slip it underneath her sweater each time she left for the bathroom. From the inside of her boot, she found the pen she swiped off of Bane's desk and pressed it to the pages, familiarity returning to her fingertips.

She had already recounted meeting Will, describing him and placing reminders for herself along the margins of things to speak to him about. Details of the still elusive visitor from four or five nights ago plagued the pages now instead of her thoughts. Things Lucy didn't even realized she knew, like the recollection of the visitor's voice inflection and the touch that sent chills down Lucy's spine, were printed in black ink. Now, she sat there scribbling vigorously about the system Bane had somehow built right underneath the noses of Gotham. But she stopped writing when she found that she was void of a very simply but important fact: their actual location.

"Where are we?" She mumbled to herself, tapping the pen top to her lips.

Going back to the highway chase after the stock exchange, Lucy scrounged her brain for street names; she tried to remember what she saw when Bane took her to see Dagget. But she realized that both of those times, she wasn't aware of the passageways they had taken underground, in fact she was even unconscious for one of them.

Pursing her lips, Lucy turned back to her journal. She flipped back and forth, but paused when she came across a fold in the pages. She laid the journal flat on the ground, unfolding the pages, and spread out what appeared to be roughly, yet intricately, drawn-to-scale blue print of Gotham's sewage system.

"How did this get here? I don't remember drawing this." Lucy wondered aloud.

Upon closer inspection, Lucy instantly recognized the chicken scratch of handwriting as not her own, but John's. When they were going over those Dagget files, they included a mass amount of blue prints and John must have copied one of them down for personal reference into Lucy's journal. She was unaware of it, but nonetheless thankful for it.

Lucy traced her fingertips along the penned passageways, starting from the numerous lines feathering off the edge of the page and moving toward the spine of the journal. A circle was drawn there as the junction where the passageways ultimately converged on one another.

"Gotham: Downtown/Metropolitan Area." Lucy read the John's label at the top right corner of the page. Pursing her lips, she tried to connect the dots in her head. "Ok…what's downtown? Stock exchange…major businesses…Dagget Industries…" Lucy trailed off.

But, looking more closely at John's drawing, Lucy felt like something was actually leaning in her favor. John had written in a few street names above certain passageways. All she needed now was an actual map of the downtown Gotham to match up locations and maybe then, this map could very well answer a few lingering questions.

Now…to find a map of Gotham…

* * *

With a hesitant glance over her shoulder, Lucy found herself back in the alcove, in front the towers of televisions that were flashing between all of Gotham's, maybe even the entire United States', news stations. She briefly spared a glance at the wall of screens, wondering if there was anything there about her…kidnapping. There wasn't.

She tore her eyes away and placed her attention on the surface of Bane's desk instead. From the looks of the stacks of papers and files sprawled across it, it was clear that he must have done a lot of his thinking and planning there. Surely, she could find something.

She cautiously looked over her shoulder a second time before reaching forward with tentative fingers. Lucy started to rifle through the stacks of paper, intent on finding a single map of Gotham. But for some reason, she was finding anything but. There were building layouts, Xeroxed copies of construction contracts, folders with incriminating information on Gotham's high and mighty—she had to resist the urge to poke through those-, newspaper articles, photos of Mayor Garcia, Commissioner Gordon, and Bruce Wayne…all of which were not what she was looking for at the moment. With an impatient huff, Lucy scoured through the stacks faster.

"Map!" Lucy declared in a loud whisper.

Her eyes danced with a burst of hope as she pulled the creased map out from between the pages. But in her haste, she pulled too hard and the stack beneath the map was scattered onto the floor. Lucy cursed under her breath and quickly tucked the map into her back pocket. She kneeled down and quickly started to pick up the scattered files. When they were all back in her hands, she stood up and turned to set them down on the table, making them look as undisturbed as possible. But as she was about to turn away, having gotten what she was originally looking for, her eyes unintentionally slid over the top file, bringing her to a pause.

It was like any normal manila file, an ugly, uniform beige color and the edges were a bit frayed and bent, probably from being handled so much. But it wasn't that. It wasn't that at all. It was the label…rather, the name printed across the tab.

"'_Lucy R. Chambers'."_

Her breath caught in her throat.

Lucy felt the urge to open the file, while another part of her, her logic, shouted at her to not do it, fearing that she might find things she didn't like inside. But before she knew it, she was opening the file. And like that, all else was forgotten.

Spread out in front of her was….well…her. Her being. Her _life._

Photos. Papers. **A lot **of documents.

She fumbled through each of them, thumbing her way through chapters of her own life in black and white. Her school transcripts, dating from elementary school all the way to her graduation day, those were there. Nearly all of her hospital and medical records, those were there too. The official reports from Child Protective Services were there, followed by her admittance papers to St. Cecilia's. Goddamn it all to hell, whoever gathered this folder even managed to grab her birth certificate too.

"…_a daughter, Lucy, born on this 21__st__ day of December, 1995, in the city of Gotham, to Matthew and Elena Chambers…."_

She had to stop for a moment. The further she dug further into the pile, the more Lucy began to see her entire life flash before her eyes. She thought that was only supposed to happen when you were about to die. Perhaps, she was close. But the deeper she got, the more Lucy came to the sick realization that Bane knew all this about her. Never has she felt so violated before. The feeling dropped to her stomach and for a moment, Lucy felt lightheaded and a dazed, confused sensation buzzed in her head.

Lucy blinked and became aware of the hot tears seated at the corner of her eyes. With a sudden rush of vehemence, Lucy rubbed them away and turned back to the file hastily shoving all of the contents back into the folder, putting it all back where she found it, locking it back into its vault like she never even touched it. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

"Lucy?"

She sucked in a panicked breath, as the voice reminded her of where she really was. Lucy clumsily pushed the files she had dropped earlier underneath the original stack, attempting to put the desk back in order before finally turning around.

"Will." Lucy breathed in a relief at seeing the lone dark-haired young man. After a few days ago, Will didn't make a reappearance and she feared that he had been scared off. But Lucy knew that as a big brother, Will had some sort of natural duty that surpassed any other in importance. Lucy doubted he could overcome it. John never could.

Will nodded his head in acknowledgment. "We have something to discuss."

"That we do." Lucy agreed.

He shoved his hand into his pocket and pulled the slightly wrinkled photo of him and his sister out of his pocket. "You showed this to me a few days ago."

"I did." Lucy nodded, slowly folding her arms over her chest.

"How did you get it?" He asked, his hand tightening over the photo. He had lost the anger and demand in his tone from when she first showed him the photo, but there was still a sense of urgency.

"St. Cecilia's." Lucy uttered.

"What?"

"I grew up there." Lucy said simply, "You and Lily grew up there too."

"How did you know that?"

Lucy shook her head in amusement, "We really aren't so different, Will."

Will considered this, lowering his arm back to his side but staying a good distance from Lucy. He didn't quite trust her yet. "So we grew up in the same orphanage. So what? What does that mean for anything, Lucy Blake?"

"Fair enough, Will. For one thing, we didn't grow up there together, clearly, since we have never actually met till a few days ago. But…consider my knowledge one of…similar experience."

Will looked at her in puzzlement. It encouraged Lucy to continue as she meandered away from Bane's desk.

"I know for a fact that the only reason you are down here is for Lily. I know that she is all you really have left. All that you really care for." Lucy frankly declared, watching as Will narrowed his eyes at her but made no attempt to confirm or deny her words. Although, a better part of Lucy knew that she was right and she decided to continue so as to not waste her time. She was still aware of where they were. "I know that, as an older brother, you feel like you alone have to carry the burden of doing what you can to care for Lily." Will looked away at this, but Lucy could see his jaw tensing. At this point, Lucy found herself standing side by side with Will and she pressed one, though gently still, "The Reverend Mother talked to me about you, Will. Lily knows about you, you know. She told me so. She's young, but she knows."

"I never wanted to leave her behind." Will suddenly spoke up, turning to Lucy with an apologetic and pitiful look in his eyes. "Lily knows that I was going to come back for her. But, everything down here became so…so…"

"Not what you expected?" Lucy asked, feeling as though she were talking to herself, knowing just how true those words were.

"Yeah." He answered numbly.

Silence passed in between them and there was nothing but the sounds of men working below and water dripping against the pavement, leaving them to their thoughts. Will was forced to consider all that Lucy said to him. Weeks, almost months, he had been down there and all he had been focused on was surviving. From the minute he saw a kid his own age be shot for wanting to go home, Will knew that what Bane had going on down here was anything but simple business for a few bucks. But now, instead of just surviving for himself, he was reminded that he had to survive for Lily as well.

"You need to get out of here. Go to her." Lucy's voice broke through his thoughts, speaking only what he had yet to admit.

Will shook his head. "I can't."

"Why not?"

Will looked at her incredulously. "I'm sure you have seen that Bane does not take too lightly to traitors. I would be killed before I even touch the surface again."

Lucy nodded sadly in understanding. She turned her head away and thought for a moment before saying, "Say there was a way that you could get out of here, would you go?"

Will let out a sarcastic chuckle. "If there was a way, yes. But Bane has every passageway covered, there's no way out of here that he won't know about."

_There is always a way._

Will shook his head again, dispelling his own conjured hopes of ever climbing out of this place alive and free from Bane's control. "I'm in too deep, anyways."

Lucy snorted. "If you are in too deep, then what am I exactly?"

"Far too close for comfort, I would say," Bane's hissing cut through their conversation like a newly sharpened knife.

Lucy and Will swallowed the large lumps that appeared in their throats and slowly turned their attention to the bulging mass of a man at the end of the alcove. His eyes were narrowed into to two silvery beads that penetrated the pair of teenagers that stood far too close for Bane's approval.

"I recall giving my little bird permission to roam the passages, but I do not recall permitting you," Bane turned his gaze purely on Will, "to abandon your duties for common conversation."

Lucy had lost a bit of her focus at the articulation of her new nickname. _My little bird_. But Lucy had little time to mull it over in her head as Bane started to slowly stalk over to them, an unnerving focus placed on Will.

"It was me." Lucy blurted out, before she realized that she had no idea what she was going to summon up at the moment. "I-I needed something and he was the only one near to ask."

Bane paused mid-step and looked at Lucy in doubt. "And what was this favor that you could not wait to ask me yourself?"

Lucy bit her lip, yet still answered with a quickness and dexterity that was convincing enough. "I was wondering if I could get a change of clothes."

Bane eyed her, searching her blank face for any hint of fallacy. But Lucy held on, despite the fact that her insides were quaking. But she was able to release a hushed breath as Bane finally nodded his head and acquiesced with her quick fired excuse. "Very well, Barsad can find you more suitable ware." He flicked his hand to the said man behind him and he immediately turned and left the room.

If there was any sense of relief in them, Lucy and Will didn't show it. Not when Bane continued his stride over to them. The pair of teens stiffened as Bane stopped in front of them. He stood as a shadow over them, his thumbs hooked into his vest and his chest puffed out and his head held high. Lucy swallowed and kept her eyes glued to one of the metal buckles on his torso. Beside her, Will had his hands folded tightly behind his back, as if he were at attention. To Bane, that's exactly what he should be. Nothing more.

"As for you," Bane started, placing his hand on Will's shoulder and squeezing the slightest bit till Will visibly winced. "Return to your duties. If I catch you here unless otherwise told, I may not be so…lenient."

"Yes, sir." Will ground out, doing what he could to maintain his stoic expression. He met Lucy with a sidelong glance before marching out of the room like the obedient soldier he knew he had to be.

Bane watched in prideful contentment as the young ruffian unquestioningly bowed away from his…_little bird._ He was not always aware of the men he hired. In arriving to Gotham, Bane was pleased to find many men willing to bend to his will. It did not really matter who they were, what mattered was the success of their plan. The fact that he had many men on his side to do so was only sped everything up. But, on the other hand, Bane was aware that his men were not always among the greatest that Gotham could offer. In fact, they mainly consisted of runaways, orphans, drunkards, former drug addicts, or simply men in desperate need of money and work. Low-lives.

And he would trust none near his little bird.

He would think that Lucy would feel the same way. Yet this is the second time he found that boy near her and in positions of close relations. He did not understand her. She never spoke much to him, yet she did so But he would not question her further when he knew that her wit was one to be matched. And forcing something out of her was not an option either. She was delicate, as someone once told him, and he must treat her as such in order to preserve what was needed in her. With that in mind, Bane patted Lucy on her head in a gentle manner that mimicked an almost father-like touch, stilling Lucy's nervous quakes.

"Come with me, my dear. Let us take a walk."

He moved his hand from the top of her head to cup around the back of her neck, making Lucy feel as though a shackle were being placed there instead. She mustered her self-control and pushed all of her discomfort into the tight line of her lips and the nails digging into her palm, as she was carted around by Bane. They walked down into the lower levels of the sewers where majority of the work and Bane's men congregated. As they passed, whispers trailed behind them. They were too unintelligible for Lucy to understand and Bane acted like he heard nothing at all. But Lucy didn't have to hear them to know what they were talking about. The looks. The eyes. Those told it all. Many chose wisely to keep their eyes averted from Bane, though still chanced a short glance at Lucy as they passed; while others, who were overestimating their confidence, openly stared at Lucy as if she were a free-for-all prize. It was only then Lucy was thankful that she could physically feel Bane's presence there.

"You should not be afraid of them. They can't touch you." Bane said, as they entered into a less populated passageway.

Lucy shook her head. "I'm not."

Bane's eyes gleamed in amusement, "Is that so? And why aren't you, little one?"

"Well, if I am lucky, they are all talk. If that is true, they really would not touch me, only conjure up their own sick fantasies."

"Surely you do not base your lack of fear on speculation of an average man's nature." Bane asked conversationally.

"Well, I do have a gun." Lucy added quietly, reminded by another sharp poke of metal into her waist.

"You would shoot a man?" Bane asked, almost unconvinced.

"If he posed a threat to me, yes." Lucy swiftly answered without considering the implications of her words.

"I see. But you've mistaken something, child." Bane said.

Lucy turned her head up to him, "What's that?"

"My men are men of action. Their motivation is my word and my word alone." Bane stated eerily.

"No, it's their fear." Lucy countered. Instantly, Bane's hand tightened the slightest bit around her neck, but it was enough to make her squirm.

"Care to elaborate." It was not a question.

Lucy swallowed and tried to move her neck around to get him to loosen up, but it was to no avail; yet, she decided to proceed. "They obey you because of their fear of what you may—will do to them if they do otherwise," His fingers curled into her pale skin. Lucy winced. "That's their motivation. Fear. It's yours too."

"Be careful of what you speak of, little bird." Lucy shuddered as his voice floated much closer to her ear than she anticipated. "You may have much knowledge up here," A thick finger prodded her in the temple, "But you have not seen fear and evil in its truest form. I have. I was born in it."

"Born in it?"

His hand fell away from her neck and stroked her hair back down, "Yes. In the depths of hell's darkest prison. That is where fear takes its manifestation."

Lucy gulped nervously. Between Bane's disturbingly gentle patting of her hair and the sinister revelation he so casually passed on to her, Lucy was going to need some sort of diagram to keep up with him. She hoped that this dark prison of hell wasn't posed as an indirect threat to her. He spoke of true fear. If what she felt each time she woke up here wasn't fear, if what she saw him do to John Dagget wasn't fear, then what was it?

At this point, Lucy had no clue and nothing to say in response. But she was thankful that there was no need. By now, they had somehow made a full circle back to the alcove just as Barsad was laying a new set of clothing down for Lucy. After he did, he walked over to Bane and muttered something in his ear that Lucy couldn't make out. It must have been important, though, as far as Lucy could tell.

"I see. Very well." Bane nodded seriously, then turned to Lucy, "Do not wander too far, little one."

And once again Lucy was alone.

She took a seat on the bed and felt a crinkle of paper under her backside. Lucy reached her hand over into her back pocket and suddenly remembered the map she placed there earlier. She breathed a sigh of relief as she placed it in her lap. She was about to spread it out when she was hit with the recollection of everything else she encountered that day.

_Map._

_Her file._

_Will._

_Escape._

_Bane._

_Hell._

Lord save her soul.

**The ending isn't my greatest work, but to be honest, I always ended on the same note no matter how much I changed it. Plus, truth be told, I wrote this whilst breaking in my brother's new Xbox and Halo 4 game, watching Bad Boys 2 and American Horror story…sooo…**

**Attention span is a smidge short.**

**But either way, I still think this was a pretty good chapter.**

**What do you all think?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Oh, boy, this is going to be quite awkward, isn't it? So, it's been awhile…like a few months? Last time I updated it was Christmas…and it's now the middle of May… I get it. I am so sorry! Honestly, I am. When I knew I should be posting and I wasn't, I was feeling extremely guilty! I should try to be more consistent with my posts, but I found that extremely hard to do in the presence of this funny little bastard called school…and a minor teenage life crisis. In short, I have been otherwise distracted. BUT! As it is obvious I am back now with a new chapter, this one is long and took me awhile to get done…soooo I guess, I hope this can somewhat make up for my long leave of absence. **

**I don't own the Dark Knight Rises or anything associated with the Nolan-verse Batman.**

**Onwards!**

Chapter 14:

Lucy's understanding of map reading was limited to what she had learned in her high school geography lessons and the few Dagget construction plans she had looked over with John. But even that should imply that she had enough common knowledge to interpret the layout in front of her eyes. Still, as Lucy glanced from John's sketch in her journal to the map of the city, as she turned her journal over and over and this way and that way, she knew she had to be doing something wrong. None of what she was seeing should be right.

"You must be joking…" Lucy muttered, roughly combing her dark hair away from her face.

But the realization only rang louder in her head, the longer she stared at the map. She was sitting underneath Wayne Enterprises. No, really. This entire time Bane had been building up his forces underneath the core of Gotham's greatest industrial power. From where she sat on the bed, Lucy looked up and out toward the circular atrium and domed roof where Bane's men still ceaselessly worked. Even now, Lucy was at a loss for what they were doing. Then again, she was still at a loss for anything at this point.

_How many days has it been again? Four? five? _

Bane did a mighty good job of keeping her in the dark.

As if she needed more to contemplate.

Quickly shaking her head, Lucy looked back at the drawings and map and let her mind be clouded with a different matter: escaping out of here. If Bane had a plan for Wayne Enterprises, for Gotham, and for her, she could not do anything about it sitting around here. Get out first and then help. Not the most intricate plan, but it would have to do for now. She had been here too long, and she could not wait for a saving grace. Lucy did not think she could handle not knowing what tomorrow will be like, especially for her. She was suddenly taken by an overwhelming feeling of nostalgia for her home…for her brother. She missed everything. She had to get out of here. She paused and re-thought her statement. _They_ had to get out of there. She and Will. There was not an official agreement made between them. But Lucy knew what it was like for siblings to be apart. She wouldn't let someone else feel that way too. He said it was impossible; that they would die before they'd escape. But Lucy thought otherwise.

She had to.

Grabbing the pen in her boot, Lucy uncapped it and began to trace on both maps. First, she placed an 'x' on their current location and circled Wayne Enterprises on the city map several times. Then, she placed a finger on Dagget Industries and marked it similarly. She flattened the pages of her journal so the blueprint drawing was spread out well right beside the city map. Then, she measured the distance between Wayne Enterprises and Dagget Industries to be about the length of her thumb to the tip of her middle finger and estimated its scaled size on John's drawing to appropriately mark Dagget Industries on the sewage map. From that, Lucy was able to roughly trace out the possible routes that they had taken to the surface…there were quite a few. But it still let her cross off a few of passages since she could suppose that they were most likely guarded or were in constant use.

"But which ones are not guarded…" Lucy mumbled to herself, biting on the end of her pen in thought. Lucy pushed the maps off of her lap and clambered off of the bed. She walked over to the railing, grabbing the cold, wet bar in her hands, and leaned over it. Her eyes swept over each of the expansive levels of the atrium, searching for some way or opening that could service her.

But from where she stood, Lucy could easily tell you that it would not be that simple. Around every bend, corner, or opening, there was a constant flood of mercenaries and guards, like worker ants constantly marching. Lucy was almost convinced if there was even the slightest hole in the wall, Bane had it covered.

Lucy let out an exasperated sigh. Perhaps she should have heeded Will's words a little more seriously. Scratching her head, Lucy put her thoughts back in order before deciding to take another look. Her fingers began to drum on the railing as her dark eyes took to scouring deeper into each level. For awhile, she remained luckless, till she found her eyes suddenly drawn to the mist collecting at the bottom of the waterfall. Lucy tilted her head curiously as she watched the mist roll and cloud for a moment before dissipating behind the waterfall, as if something was sucking the air in that direction, like a vacuum or opening. Furrowing her eyebrows together, Lucy craned her neck to get a better look, but soon realized she'd have to go down there in order to get a closer look.

Carefully avoiding the ever-so watchful eyes of Bane's men, Lucy quietly made her way down. She veered away from the populated work area and slipped into the shadows near the waterfall, pressing her back against the nearest wall. Sweeping her eyes around in the poorly lit area, Lucy took quick note of the fact that there were little to no guards here; well, there was actually a guard a few feet from the foot of the stairs, but Lucy was sure he was either hammered or one hell of a heavy sleeper. Either way, Lucy was in the right mind to think he posed little to no threat.

Lucy began to edge her way along the wall closer to the base of the waterfall, where her eyes were drawn to the dark space just behind it. As she drew closer, the sounds of metal clinking and the tell-tale signs of men at work were drowned out by the sound of rushing water. The air became damper and heavier with the mist and underfoot, her boots began to slide a bit on the wet concrete. The lighting began to get worse here, as the workers probably thought this place of little priority, so Lucy kept her hands pressed against the wall to guide herself. Suddenly, she stilled as she felt heavy drops of water began to fall on her head in succession. Looking upward, Lucy realized that she was standing right underneath the waterfall.

With the waterfall directly before her, Lucy pulled away from the wall and turned to face it instead. Her heart almost sank when she found nothing but solid wall before her. But, quickly dropping a downhearted gaze to her feet, she found a thick cloud of mist rolling around her ankles. Watching it for a moment, Lucy followed the cloud till it reached the bottom of the wall and suddenly disappeared. She immediately dropped to her knees and began to feel around the wall. Lower, lower she placed her hands till she felt cold, slick metal against her palms. She quickly waved her hands through the mist, dispelling it from sight, to reveal a wide metal grate with a latched door. Peering through the rusting bars, Lucy could see another tunnel with a low level of flowing water.

_This could be it._ Lucy thought to herself. _This could be our way out._

She reached for the latch of the grate and lifted it. The grate made a protesting screech as its rusted joints swung open. With a cursory glance over her shoulder, Lucy stuck her upper torso into the opening and surveyed the expanse of the tunnel. She found a ladder attached to the wall just below the grate and she used it to slowly lower herself into the tunnel. Her boots made a small splash as she landed in the tunnel. She straightened up, her head barely skimming the ceiling of the tunnel, and began to head straight down the tunnel, away from where she came.

The tunnel was straight and wide with no interconnecting tunnels on either side. It was big enough to fit both her and Will, though, he would have to hunch over a bit, but that should be the least of their problems. She splashed on for a few more minutes till she saw the end of the tunnel where another ladder was mounted upon the wall, leading up to a manhole cover. Above her, the ceiling rumbled and she could faintly hear the sounds of Gotham's streets.

Lucy's heart jumped and she felt a weight lift from her shoulders.

She was so close she could feel it. But she had to let the wait extend for a bit more. So Lucy quickly turned on her boot and ran back down the tunnel, quickly reminding herself that she couldn't forget where she was and who she was with. If she just up and left, Bane would surely notice and go after her, possibly hurting Will or worse in the process. Plus, she didn't have her bag. Leaving at this very moment, would be counterintuitive.

Easily finding her way back, Lucy swiftly hoisted herself up the ladder and in through the grate. After quietly latching it shut, she tip-toed her way back up to her make-shift prison cell. Luckily, no one had noticed her absence. Kneeling by the bed, Lucy started to fold up the maps and stuff them in her satchel. She grabbed her journal, tore a sheet out, and scribbled down a set of simple instructions to give to Will.

'_By the waterfall,_

_In two days time meet me there._

_There's always a way.'_

Disregarding the fact that it was all in the form of a haiku, Lucy hoped it was clear enough, as she folded it into the tiniest square she could manage and closed it in her fist.

Lucy went down to the lower level, skipping over the still knocked out guard. She walked straight into the work and construction area, keeping a tight hold on her wits and bravery. Lucy knew she was trodding into dangerous territory, especially on her own. Regardless of what she told Bane and the cold comfort the gun at her side brought, she wouldn't sell any of these men short of attacking her. Lucy knew the idea and fantasies were dawdling somewhere in their minds. She could feel it radiating in their stares as she walked passed.

Her steps quickened as she skirted by, her face a mask of indifference as she searched the throngs of men for boys who looked to be around her own age. She had feeling that Will had a right mind to stick with guys of his own caliber. Her theory was proved right when she finally found a small circle of teenage boys, all of them looking no younger than fifteen years old and far too innocent to be here, playing cards on an upturned crate. Will was the one shuffling and dealing the cards.

Lucy cleared her throat, making herself known. Immediately, the card game came to a standstill and all of the boys shot up from their seated or slouched positions. They stood at attention, chests puffed out and heads held high. Confused, Lucy looked behind her but found no one. Perhaps, they thought Bane had come to catch them unawares. Last time she checked, she was less than half the size of Bane, with a little more than half of a grasp on remorse, and had yet to kill or hurt someone.

"Lucy?" Will spoke up, causing the rest of the boys to finally take a look at who had interrupted them.

"I didn't mean to interrupt," Lucy said, regarding each of the now staring boys with a gentle glance and nod.

At this, they relaxed significantly but continued to ogle her in a mix of curiosity and wariness. They have heard of her presence down here, heard the whispers of Bane's plans for her, but none, save for Will, had gotten to truly see her and make their own judgments about her. Now seeing the particularly petite and seemingly delicate girl did a bit of a spell on them and they were unsure of how to react.

"It's ok, guys. You didn't interrupt, Lucy," Will said, getting up and breaking up the awkwardness. He handed the deck of cards to one of the boys and they all silently sat down and returned to their game, as if Lucy hadn't interrupted at all. Will came to stand beside Lucy on the outskirts of the card game. "They just thought—"

"I know what they thought," Lucy interrupted with an understanding nod. She didn't turn to face him rather she stayed poised forward, her eyes settling on the card game.

Catching her drift, Will mirrored her stance. The only hint of their conversation was felt in the light brush of their upper arms and elbows.

"Right…" Will glanced over his shoulder, before looking back at the card game. "What are you doing here, Lucy? Being down here isn't particularly safe…for either of us. We could get into a lot of trouble. You heard Bane."

"Of course, I did. However, if you recall, he said he wouldn't be lenient if he caught you up there with me. He didn't say anything about me coming down here."

Will skeptically peered at her from the corner of his eye, finding her words a bit far-fetched and stretched past misinterpretation. "Sure about that?"

"Not really." Lucy quietly replied, shrugging, "But can you blame me for trying?"

"Maybe not, if there's a good reason behind you coming down here."

"There is. I had to give you this." They then made a clean and easy exchange, passing the square of paper to one another underneath their folded arms in subtle movements and their clothing serving as a good cover.

"What is this?" Will mumbled, tightening his fist around the note as his eyes scanned for any prying eyes that may have caught onto them.

"You'll find out when you open it. Do it as soon as possible and when you are alone. It's important."

"Better be, Lucy_._"

"There's method in my madness, Will." Lucy murmured to him. She took a step back and quickly met his eyes for a short moment, and said, "Trust me."

Will gave an indiscreet nod of his head before leaving her side to casually slip back into the card game; however, not before Lucy saw him tuck his hands and the note safely into his jacket pocket. The gesture prompted Lucy to take her leave, reminding herself that she couldn't take the chance of staying down here for too long. Will did a good job of keeping things quiet and subtle, and she had to do the same.

"Well, well, well, look at what we have here, boys."

Lucy stiffened at the gruff, grimy voice.

_Well, what are the odds of that._

**Kind of boring, but I swear TENSION IS BUILDING AS WE SPEAK...or write?**

**So I am writing this late at night after having a choir spring concert, in which we danced like zombies and sang the Beatles. Odd, I know. I'm a bit tired but still felt the need to finish this. In the process of writing a new set of chapters, I realized that this one had extended for almost twenty pages…I felt like it was too much for one chapter so I decided to split it up. Side note, I am hoping that the way Lucy found a way out of the sewers was somewhat plausible. I did the best I could with what little knowledge I had of the sewage systems. Also, I figured it was time for an escape plan…Like Bane, we all know Lucy never could sit idly by…So the next part of the chapter should be coming soon, in which we see what Lucy is truly made of…and we meet someone new too! Yay!**

**Till next time!**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi everybody! So the end of my Junior year is on its way. Unfortunately, we all know that also means Finals' Week. Thankfully, I only have about three major exams to take then I can officially throw my arms and scream Hallelujah…but till then I am stuck studying for awhile. Lately, I've been weary-minded so I've taken to working on this story and watching movies. But it's going to come to the point when I can't avoid studying. But till then…Anyhoots, here is the next chapter, which I am hoping is a whole lot more exciting than the last…**

**I don't own the DKR series or any of Christopher Nolan's adaptations and/or words.**

**Onwards!**

Chapter 15

An uneasy feeling turned in her stomach as she slowly turned on her heel. Black beady eyes leered gleefully at her every movement as she faced him. He was, in Lucy's first observation, a first-rate creep. But then again, most of Bane's men were, save for the younger guys and Will. He was not significantly taller than her, but was oddly proportioned, with parts of him fatter than others, and had obvious traces of spending months in the sewers on his face, bald scalp, and in the putrid stench that rolled off his body.

Lucy cringed and gritted her teeth. _Of course, this wouldn't be that easy. _

"Looks like Bane's little birdie found her way out of her cage, boys." He cajoled, grinning lecherously at her, the terrible lighting casting shadows over his yellowing smile.

It took much of Lucy to not bite out a response. She didn't like the way he was looking at her. She didn't like the way he referred to her as '_Bane's little bird'_, as if she were an eager tenant of this hellhole. She didn't like this man at all. Nor was she a fan of the attention he was drawing to her. She took quick note of how many men were staring and how many had started to gather and it all only jolted the tension. But she should have known that these men were due for some entertainment and she was their unwilling but easy target.

However, Lucy refused to give them any satisfaction. She knew all too well from the stories of Gotham's streets and countless police reports that one should never goad people like these men. You could threaten them, yes, you could threaten them with the police. But not even that might stop them from touching you. So, Lucy decided to literally turn the other cheek and kept a wide gap between her and the man as she made to walk around him. Well, she at least tried. She didn't get very far till a hand clamped down on her arm and she was yanked to a very abrupt stop.

"It's rude to walk away from someone when they're talking to you, little girl." He said, sounding slightly irritated at Lucy's blatant disregard of him.

Immediately, Lucy glowered at him. "I don't answer to you." With that, Lucy pulled her arm out of his grasp and punctuated her sentence with a good shove in the man's chest. She wasn't going to play this game. Not now. She needed to get out while she still could, and hopefully, with few words and even less bruising.

The man faltered in his step, unprepared for the power exerted from her bony arms. But, nonetheless, he still managed to regain his male bravado and made another pass at Lucy. "Aren't you just a little firecracker?"

"And let me guess. You bastards like them feisty too, don't you?" Lucy bit out before she could stop herself. The blatant insult felt sour and foreign on her tongue, but nonetheless felt so appropriate. But, she soon withdrew her sass and quickly reminded herself to be the smart one about these circumstances, but…it was becoming increasingly difficult.

The man didn't seem to heed her words as all that biting as he began to circle her, grinning wickedly as he did so. "As a matter of fact, I do, love. Feisty…young…petite…" He licked his lips as he took a good long look of her body. Lucy tensed up and folded her arms tightly over her chest. "But you know one thing, little bird?" His hand fell to his pocket and drew out something small and sharp that glinted in the light. A knife.

Lucy's flight response kicked in and she turned to make a last break for it. But it was for one mere miniscule second that Lucy was on her own two feet before she was being dragged back towards the man by two others who had decided to join in on this bit 'o 'fun'. Lucy struggled against them, reality slowly starting to settle in, but it was all futile. The man started towards Lucy, holding his knife to his side and a smug smirk on his face. He came closer till his fat body was almost flush with hers and Lucy had to turn her head to keep his body odor from making her teary-eyed.

"I like mine with a little more manners." His words fell lazily against her cheek and he brought his free hand to stroke Lucy's hair. "So how 'bout it birdie? How about I teach ya a little something tonight?"

His words echoed loudly about the area, ringing in everyone's ears and making the men laugh. However, his words resonated differently in Lucy's ever-calculating brain and elicited nothing but her deepest disgust. Her resolve was starting to break apart and she was only inches from throwing caution to the wind. But still, ever so slowly, Lucy lifted her head and gave the man a narrow-eyed look that silenced him into intrigue as to what she was going to say next. Lucy slowly leaned in and stared the man right in the eyes.

"When hell freezes over. Twice." She grit out before giving him a forceful kick in his fat gut. Stunned, the man grunted and fell back, sprawled across the concrete ground, his knife sliding away from his grasp.

_Caution has been thrown to the wind._

Lucy had no time to feel stunned over her rash actions as the hold on her arms loosened for a moment. The men who were holding her were distracted, shocked by her unexpected movement, and Lucy was quick to take advantage.

She brought her foot down hard onto one of the men's feet, digging her heel in the last second for extra measure. The men yelped and hunched over to grab his throbbing foot, letting one of her arms free. Turning to the other man, Lucy used her free arm to pull him towards her as she jerked her knee up between his legs. What sounded like the squeak of a mouse left his lips as he fell onto his knees, hands cupping his crotch, and fell onto the ground in a fetal position.

But Lucy failed to see the first man get back up or to see him draw his knife back into his grasp. Suddenly, one of his meaty arms came around her neck and pulled her flush against his body, making her nerves leap into overdrive.

"You know, now I think it's time to clip those wings of yours." He whispered menacingly, brandishing his knife in front of her eyes and nuzzling his face into her hair and neck.

_Seriously, enough with the bird references…_

Her hands groped at the rough material of his jacket and struggled to pull his arm away. However, ironically, his arm was as solid as a crow bar and hardly budged. Worry was making itself palpable. Her senses started to become blurred when his rancid breath and _being_ filled her senses.

"So sweet…" He groaned unashamedly into the shell of her ear.

Her stomach turned. Rough, chapped lips ran up and down the side of her neck as his free hand ran its own wild course over her waist, sometimes dipping low to touch the ribbon of skin between the hem of her shirt and her waistband. Each time he did, though, Lucy would jerk, kick and flail around, refusing to make this easy for him. But it was to no avail, as he would only pull tighter on her hair and press his knife harder into her skin, making her hiss from the sting.

"Oh, don't worry about that, little girl." He chuckled darkly against her ear, his hand fumbling toward the button on her pants. "I'm only getting started."

_Well…So…Am…I. _

If Lucy could explain it, she would. But it was as if something just snapped.

Lucy suddenly threw all of her body weight back against him, ignoring the blade that marred her neck. Together, they hit the ground and the impact elicited a painful groan from him and made him loosen his grip on her upper body. Quickly, Lucy pushed his arm away and, without thinking, jerked her elbow back into his face, before rolling off him. Eyes wide, Lucy looked at the man sprawled beside her, his knife sitting abandoned on the floor. Without hesitation, Lucy picked it up, threw it far away in some obscure direction, and sat up. Her attacker remained sprawled flat on his back, groaning and dazed, with both of his hands covering his nose as thin streams of red seeped through his fingers.

_I did that? I broke his nose? I didn't…I just…_

Her chest heaved up and down, her breath and everything else that comes with it finally catching up to the moment. Her eyes wildly took in everything around her and she started to wrap her mind around the situation.

It was intensely and uncomfortably silent. Around her, Bane's mercenaries had formed a make-shift circle and had witnessed the whole ordeal. Lucy flickered glances at the men, not finding faces but rather a blurred mix of utter astonishment and caution. Will, she was sure, was one of the faces toward the back of the crowd but Lucy was too far gone in her current mindset to really care.

Let them stare.

They were looking for a show, weren't they? And she gave them one they would not forget.

Slowly, Lucy got up from the ground, now dirty and clothes hanging off at odd angles, and began to walk away, taking her chance to leave this mess behind and get back into order. But, again, things could never be so easy.

From behind, a raspy voice snarled in hot anger, "You little bitch…Broke my fucking nose!"

Pure frustration erupted in her veins as Lucy turned around again. This was just too much. Why couldn't it just be over?

The man staggered unsteadily on his feet as he stood up. His hand fell to his sides, exposing the bloody damage Lucy had done to his face. He didn't look all that pleased. Glaring at Lucy, he quickly swiped at his bloody and crooked nose and drew a pistol out of his jacket, smearing blood on its handle.

He took large, thundering steps towards Lucy, murderous intent driving him forward. But Lucy remained rooted to her spot. Closer and closer he came till the barrel of the gun was situated mere inches from the small patch of skin between her eyes.

Lucy trembled as metal briefly brushed against her brow and she began to think that all her fighting she had put up was about to be put to waste.

"I'm going to enjoy this."

Then the gun went off with a loud ear-splitting crack and while Lucy was inches from giving up, a part of her mind wasn't. Her hand shot out, grabbed his wrist at the last second, and knocked his aim off, sending the bullet toward the ceiling. As cement and dust rained down on them, Lucy swiftly, albeit roughly, managed to push him down onto the ground, face down. She held his arm at an odd angle where if she turned his arm one way it would probably break, while she rested her foot on the base of his spine to keep him down. And although he struggled, he quickly realized that she wasn't planning on letting up.

"Please…please, stay down…please…" Lucy asked, weakly. She was exhausted and honestly, didn't know what else she would be willing to do if he did happen to get up again.

"Is this what becomes of men at the hand of teenage girl?"

The man underneath Lucy's foot ceased his incessant squirming and everyone fell silent, the only sound was the all-too familiar raspy hissing emitting from Bane's mask. Lucy didn't have to turn around to know it was his stare on the back of her neck. She was unsure if she really wanted to meet his gaze, especially from her current position, but the sound of a strikingly silky female voice made her do otherwise.

"Didn't know you had a penchant for little girls."

Her head turned, curiosity seeking out a face to put with the new voice. It had almost the same quality as the voice she had heard days ago, when Bane and his guest had that chilling conversation while she was 'asleep'. Feminine, smooth and seductive. But she knew that they didn't match completely. This new voice had an undertone of warmth and playful mockery. The other voice was just callous and cold.

Quickly, her eyes locked onto the looming mass of Bane, standing at the railing of a raised part of the concrete floor. With his hand folded behind his back, Bane surveyed the area, likely piecing together the ordeal on his own. Barsad stood at his right side, while another person, unmistakably female, masked and clad in an all black, curve accentuating cat suit, stood to his left. Lucy's eyebrows knitted together, taken back at her appearance. The woman caught Lucy's eye and gave her a smirk from her set of perfectly painted red lips.

"Take care of how you speak. You are hardly here to offer your opinion." Bane didn't look at the woman as he spoke, making her snap her mouth shut and step further out of his way. Instead, he briefly glanced at the man beneath Lucy's boot. "You may let him up now, little one."

Lucy looked down, having almost forgotten what she was still holding one of his men down, and quickly let him go. Yet, the man remained on the floor, not daring to get up or even look at Bane.

"Come here." Bane extended his hand to her, waving her to him like a father beckoning to his child.

Weary-minded and severely perturbed, Lucy unquestioningly made her way over to him. Barsad crouched down and reached underneath the railing to help Lucy hoist herself up onto the higher level. When she straightened up, Bane turned to her and immediately cupped her face in a surprisingly gentle grasp.

Bane's steely eyes narrowed at her unnaturally disheveled appearance. Turning her face from side to side, he ran the pads of his thumbs across her cheeks, smearing away the grime and dirt. Lucy inadvertently trembled at his touch, but held her nerves at bay as he surveyed her for any other injuries. He released her face from his hands and lifted her chin. There across her skin was a rugged, but thankfully shallow, cut, with dried lines of blood smeared across her neck. His gaze dipped lower to the collar of her shirt where bluish bruises were taking form across her collar bones and shoulders. He carefully reached out and pressed on one. Lucy bit back a whimper and began to realize that she had more injuries than she had originally thought.

"Nothing too serious, little one," He assured her. However, his tone betrayed him. In spite of her seemingly minor injuries, Bane was not pleased.

"You." Bane faced his men again, a steely glint in his eyes as he zeroed in on the man still lying on the floor. The rest of the men moved out of the way, hoping they could escape Bane's death gaze. "Get up."

Reluctantly, the man slowly picked himself off the ground, as if he would have preferred digging his face into sewage run-off and pretending he was dead instead of facing Bane. Nevertheless, he turned his face, crooked nose and all, to Bane. This was unavoidable. He knew it. Lucy could see it in his eyes.

"Did I not make myself clear that Miss Blake is to be left alone?" Bane asked him.

The man swallowed as he struggled to formulate the answer. "Y-yes, sir. But…this…I mean—this is all just misunderstanding…I-I didn't…"

Bane narrowed his eyes at him, easily shutting up his incoherent bumbling. "Perhaps you don't expect me to believe that my little bird coerced you into fighting her, especially when she was severely outnumbered and at a disadvantage. Although, it appears as though she put up a good fight in the end." He noted the broken nose, with an appreciative pat on Lucy's shoulder.

"She—"

"She is my ward." Bane cut in, causing several eyes and whispers to arise though he paid them little mind.

Lucy turned her head to look at him fast enough to get whiplash. _His ward? The hell-_

"I was only—" The man spluttered.

Bane cut in. "She was acting on her own defense. You were acting on carnal instinct, a seriously mindless mistake."

"It won't happen ever again. I swear." His voice shook with fear, as he groveled for any chance at survival. He staggered forward and almost fell to his knees.

A look of amusement came to Bane's face. "You fail to see that your words mean nothing to me. You allowed yourself to fall to your old chauvinist habits. You attacked an innocent girl because you sought entertainment. Your mistake cannot be sworn on. You intended to take this little bird's innocence, and that…will cost you."

The distinct sound of a metal clicking and sliding together reached her ears. Peering out of the corner of her eye, she watched as Barsad carefully loaded a pistol with bullets before handing it to Bane.

Lucy saw the color drain from the man's face and a thin sheen of anxious sweat appeared on his brow. The man licked his lips several times as his eyes desperately looked to his companions for help. But he was only greeted by turned backs and averted eyes. It was a pitiful sight. To see a man easily degraded into a terrified, sobbing mess at the brink of his death was not something Lucy was overly fond of seeing. Not after the Dagget incident. She hadn't forgotten about that. The trauma from simply witnessing murder or crime was unbelievably lasting.

Lucy decided to close her eyes. This man was going to be executed and Bane was willing to do it in front of her. Lucy had yet to understand why, but till then she would do what she could to keep herself from putting those images in her mind. She would do what she could to keep her sanity and keep the nightmares at bay. But somewhere in the back of her mind, dwelt the slightest bit of guilt. By the looks of things, had she not gone down there at all…perhaps, this entire thing would have been avoided. Had she not been—

"Open your eyes, little one." There had been no shot, no howl of pain. Just a simple request or rather demand.

Lucy almost shook her head, yet she complied and opened her eyes. Below, the man remained standing, trembling and muttering last prayers, but wholly untouched by gun shot wounds. Lucy thought Bane would have done it by now. He wasn't one to delay.

But it quickly came to her attention that Bane held the gun in front of her. Her eyes fell to the gun in his open palm, uncertain of what he meant by it. But as Bane turned, giving her a piercing look, she quickly understood his message. He was offering it to her. Bane wasn't delaying rather he was taking a different direction.

Lucy sucked in a deep breath as she hesitantly took up the gun. "What am I supposed to do?"

Bane gestured to the man. "This man is your attacker. He took your life in his hands and played with it. Now, this is your opportunity to do the same."

Lucy let his words sink in. She couldn't deny that he was right. That man played with her life like she was nothing more than money to splurge. He was going to hurt and kill her, there was no doubt about that, had Lucy not reacted as quickly and effectively as she did.

Now, Bane was giving her the chance for retribution. An eye for an eye, as the saying goes.

Lucy studied the gun in her hand for a moment, actually considering it. Her hand seemed to fit itself around the handle of the gun and she began to raise it up in the air. Her attacker, a man slowly falling to a puddle of tears and sweat, looked up at her pleadingly and fearfully. Part of Lucy told her to do it. To pull the trigger because, looking back, she had a good enough reason. But then, she looked into the man's eyes and realized that he was staring at her as if he were praying that there was still a part of her that was merciful.

"I can't." Lucy whispered. She brought the gun back down as she slowly shook her head. "No. I won't do this."

Bane rested his hands on her shoulders and squeezed the slightest amount, not hurting her but letting her know where he stood and who was in charge. "I recall you saying that if a man ever threatened you, you would not hesitate to shoot him.

Lucy almost regretted those words. "I know. But, I won't be his judge. I won't hold his life in my hands." Lucy looked directly at her attacker, whose eyes now glittered with the hope of being spared, then up at Bane. "I will not play God."

The hands on her shoulders suddenly tightened significantly, threatening to crush her bones, as Bane's tempers flared at her defiance. He had expected much more from her and this had been the perfect opportunity to see how her progress had been coming. Clearly, she had not cracked enough. But Bane was a stubborn man, and he would just have to press on. Plans were made and must be fulfilled.

Lucy whimpered and hissed at the pressure on her shoulders, sure that her body would be black and blue by the time she got out of there. Suddenly, Bane released her and shoved her away. Lucy stumbled till she was caught up in the arms of the masked woman in black, whom she had forgotten was there at all. Muttering a quick thanks, Lucy got back on her feet just as Bane picked up the gun that had fallen to the ground.

"I'm disappointed, little bird." Bane lifted the gun, staring pointedly at Lucy as he did so, and pulled the trigger.

The bang was loud and resounding. The distinct 'thump' of a body slumping to the ground was even more piercing.

Lucy's lungs were sucked thin of its air as she looked down upon the man she had chosen to spare. It was almost morbidly funny to her. They had spoken about gambling on people's lives, yet that's exactly what had happened to that man, who now lay half-submerged in his own blood.

Regardless of what she did, he was going to die.

She only managed to prolong his agonizing last moments before Bane took over.

But even as Lucy took a good long look at the wasted life, she felt little to nothing.

* * *

"Called in Mr. Fox, did you?" Alfred Pennyworth noted as he entered the Batcave to find Bruce trying out a leg brace that looked far too intricate to be part of the prescriptions assigned by the doctor. "You've got the wrong leg, sir."

"Start out with the good leg, so the brace stores your optimum muscle capabilities." Bruce replied before transferring the brace to his injured leg. He cautiously placed weight on his leg and moved it around. Bruce picked up the remote control of the mechanized brace, took a deep breath, then pressed a button on the remote. Bruce grunted in pain as the brace suddenly tightened and dug into the skin and muscles of his injured knee.

"Is it terribly painful?"

Bruce gritted his teeth. "You are welcome to try it yourself, Alfred."

Alfred shrugged and shook his head. "Quite alright just watching, sir."

The brace made one more click into a locked position. Bruce slowly got back onto his feet. "Not a bad fit." Bruce approached a brick wall of the Batcave and suddenly twisted his body in a sharp circle, throwing his leg out in a perfect roundhouse kick that knocked out a good size brick. "Not bad at all."

Alfred looked on skeptically. "Master Wayne, if you are seriously considering going back out there to face Bane you must understand the rumors about him."

"Ears open."

"There is a prison. A pit in a more ancient part of the world. Where men are thrown to suffer till they die. However, sometimes, a man rises from the darkness. Sometimess…the pit sends something back."

"Bane."

"Born and raised in the closest thing to a hell on earth." Alfred confirmed. "There is no clear understanding why or how he escaped. But it is known that he, like you, was trained in the darkest disciplines of combat. Just like you."

"Who trained him?"

"One Ra's al Ghul—your own mentor."

Bruce, who had been half-listening to the story, sat a little straighter as he received this set of shocking information. "Bane was a member of the League of Shadows?"

Alfred nodded. "Till he was excommunicated. If Bane was seen as far too extreme for even Ra's al Ghul, perhaps not even Batman should be trifling with him."

Bruce seemed to heed the warning for a moment. "Didn't realize Batman was known for messing with criminals."

Alfred sighed. Bruce was misunderstanding him. "That was in the past, Master Wayne. You can strap your leg up and put the cape back on but that will not make you who you were back then."

"Back then? Alfred, Gotham needs me now."

"They need Bruce Wayne, not Batman. The city has long since forgotten about its caped crusader and had yet to even believe in the good you did as Batman. Master Wayne, you do not owe these people your body or your life. That time…it's passed." Alfred was close to pleading. His blue eyes were glistening.

But Bruce only shook his head. "If you are afraid that I will fail, Alfred—"

"No, Master Wayne." Alfred interjected. "That's not it all. I'm afraid that you want to fail."

Bruce had no words. Alfred had his penchant for being a profound learner of humanity, seeming to see more about the circumstances than Bruce ever could. But, at this moment, Bruce didn't want to hear anymore protest to his return as Batman. He believed that it was his time to return and clearly more people did too. Wasn't that enough?

"Master Wayne, what will happen when you finally come to confront Bane?"

"I'll fight harder. I always have." He replied easily, as he turned to his computer to analyze the cracked data from the USB taken from the hit at the stock market.

"When you had something to fight for, Master Wayne. Take a look at this," Alfred grabs the remote to the nearest monitor and points out the footage of Bane at the stock market. "Look at his speed, his ferocity. The conviction in his training. I see not just a man, but the League of Shadows resurgent."

Bruce turned away, though doubt began to bloom somewhere in the back of his mind. "He was excommunicated by Ra's al Ghul himself."

"Even so, Master Wayne. Who leads them now? Ra's al Ghul may be dead. But do not delude yourself with the idea that the League died with him. Regardless of his excommunication, Bane could have been and probably is the bearer of the League of Shadows. Who will lead them in the near future?"

"The near future? Are you saying he'll go looking for an heir, someone to pass on the legacy to?"

"I am afraid that he may already have, sir," Alfred shook his head regretfully, drawing out two sheets of folded paper from his coat pocket and setting them down in front of Bruce. "These were on our front porch steps."

The first thing Bruce's eyes were drawn to was the Missing Person flyer on top. There was strong familiarity emanating from the girl in the photo. Lucy Blake. They had only met once and very briefly, but she sure made an impression on him. How he could have placed her in the back corner of his mind was beyond him. Had it not been a few short days since her own brother confronted him about her kidnapping?

He pushed the flyer off to the side and turned his attention onto the next paper. It was a blown up screen shot from the security footage of the stock market heist. He easily picked out Bane but felt concern dawn on him as he recognized what Bane was holding in his hands. In one, he held Lucy by the back of her sweater and in the other, he held her journal.

His eyebrows knitted together as realization settled into his mind. If Lucy was ever at the back of his mind, she was now at the forefront.

"Lucy Blake. Why would he take a seventeen year old girl? What could he possibly want from her?" Bruce asked, his voice dropping low, dense with apprehension as he scrutinized the photo.

"Precisely my question, Master Wayne." Alfred said, "And it all comes down to the name Lucy R. Chambers."

…**Okay…so I am hoping that was good…We finally got to see some shift in Lucy, she's briefly encountered Cat Woman, and now Bruce and Alfred are back in the game. As said before, I know that some of the events recognized from the movie are a bit out of order, but keep in mind that I am morphing the order a bit to fit how I want my version to flow. I hope that isn't illegal…**

**So now I'll just go and work on the next chapter while you all should go to that nice review box down below and share your thoughts about what you think is coming! They are most appreciated! Love you guys!**

**P.S. If you all would like a visual image of Will, I model him in the similar image of Avan Jogia…(he's so pretty…) .**

**Bye!**


	16. Chapter 16

**Hey guys! First, I am officially finished with my junior year! Senior year here I come! Anyways, now that summer is here, I am almost sure I will have more time on my hands to write. My school year ended yesterday and this chapter has sort of been on the rocks since I started studying. It's short…**

**But still, please enjoy!**

**I don't own the Dark Knight Rises….darn it…**

**Onwards, my good friends!**

Chapter 16:

"_Just stay out of trouble and don't go chasing down crime stories…"_

"_Understood….that's your job, right?" _

"_Exactly…That is my job…I will do it…"_

_I will do it…I should…_

_I have to…I promise…_

John, increasingly bothered, chucked his pen across the cluttered kitchen table, sending more sheets of paper into disarray. He pressed the heels of his palms against his cheeks and temples, rubbing away the remnants of his and Lucy's last conversation from his head. Clearly, his subconscious was taking the reins for the night…or was it morning?

His eyes flickered over to the digital clock of the microwave.

_3 a.m._

John groaned, as he swirled the last of his cold coffee around the bottom of his Styrofoam cup before taking it down. Cringing at the bitter aftertaste, John took a deep breath and propped his elbows on top of the table, head in his hands.

There goes another night without sleeping. And another night of milking the coffee maker for all that it's worth. What was this…the fifth night…or was it the sixth? God, for all he knew he'd grown another year older. What with amount of things he's done lately, it wouldn't be surprising if that was the case.

John silently admitted to himself that he was stretching himself paper thin. There was so much he had put himself into carrying alone.

Commissioner Gordon was still in recovery and depended on the rookie detective to keep him in the loop. But how could John do that if he was not even in the loop himself? Tracking construction sites and tunnel systems without knowing what one is looking for isn't particularly conducive to anyone. Not to mention that the namesake that tied all the tunnels and sites together was found murdered days ago. Someone might as well have blindfolded him and pushed him into highway traffic.

Then, there was still Lucy.

Her trail was slowly disappearing, becoming threadbare with each passing day.

Sadly, that's all he had to say about the matter. That's all he **could** say.

It didn't really matter that he's printed and painted nearly all of Gotham with 'Missing Person's' fliers. It didn't matter how many people he asked. John had chased himself through circles and circles and finally into corner with Lucy's kidnapping. Speculation was no longer an option and there was only one thing John knew for sure: Bane, a man he knew very little about, took Lucy. However, there was little he could comprehend from that fact alone. After all, there was only so much he could derive from the security footage.

John deeply sighed as he slowly dragged his hand through his mussed hair. Standing up, he began to pace. The apartment was dark, save for the solitary lamp on in the corner of the room. John didn't feel the need to turn on the rest of the lights, especially if he was by himself.

John began to recognize how dreary and solitary their living space had become in a short amount of days. He hadn't spent much time at the apartment, but when he did, he didn't pay much mind to where he left his coat, clothes, or dirty dishes. Lucy would be disappointed. She had always had a proclivity for being tidy and liking order. She kept a lot of things in order. She was always the more level-headed one of the pair, yet the one with the stronger imagination (she was the writer after all). John would like to think that Lucy is the reason he's kept his sanity all these years. Lately, John has maintained that he had a duty to Lucy, but was it so bad to say that he needed her back for his own sake?

He missed his sister. Couldn't it be as simple as that?

His vision suddenly grew blurry. He quickly wiped at his eyes, partially surprised to find them wet with stray tears, tears that were probably never going to be seen again, just because John was that stubborn and bent on being strong.

In the end, despite everything that he's done, the truth was that John depended on Lucy just as much as Lucy depended on John.

* * *

All was quiet, something that was pleasing to Bane's ears. The air was humid and thick with apprehension, an atmosphere that was all too familiar to Bane. Someone had yet to move toward the crumpled body on the sewer floor, a pool of blood starting to grow bigger and bigger like a halo around the man's head. In spite of the other men's efforts to hide their fear, Bane easily saw past their stiff postures and apathetic facades. They were but fools to try and hide it.

Lucy, on the other hand, was blank-faced. Her eyes were distant and her lips pressed in an inscrutable line. Once again, Bane found her varying tolerance puzzling. She wouldn't pull the trigger yet she could look impassively at a dead body. Her morals were always strange to him from the beginning. But, even though she had yet to kill a man, she had no problem making one bruised and bleeding. Clearly, something was tipping the scales of her morality.

Bane was no less pleased with her.

"Go back to your quarters, little one." Bane waved his hand at her, done with her for the moment. Lucy looked up, blinked as though returning to the present before nodding once, no obvious reluctance exuding from her. She turned to go when Bane spoke again. "Miss Kyle, go with her."

Selina Kyle, or Cat Woman, as the men call her due to her wardrobe choice, made no immediate move of obedience. She stood for moment, hip cocked out and arms crossed, as she traded a wary look from Lucy to Bane. Then her eyes narrowed in defiance and for a moment, she was willing herself to not move. Whatever was going here between Bane and the girl was clearly not something healthy. She didn't like it. Bane understood this, but didn't care much to regard it with anything but a pointed glare. Selina looked away, landing a gaze on Lucy, the otherwise innocent girl, and softened.

"Fine." She placed a hand on Lucy's shoulder, the contact making Lucy look up at her. "Let's go, sweetheart." She urged Lucy away in her deceptively sultry voice.

Everyone remained painfully quiet as the two females walked away, the echo of Miss Kyle's sharp heeled boots against the wet pavement following close behind.

Bane watched them go, keeping a particularly sharp eye on his ward, a title he was a rather free with using for her. She was still stock straight as she marched away, but his eyes immediately lit upon her hand hanging at her side. Her fingers twitched, curled, uncurled, then finally clenched itself into a small fist, as if everything Lucy may or may not have been feeling at the moment was concentrated into that small appendage.

When they were out of hearing range, Bane turned to the men who remained, then gestured to the dead body. "Clean that up immediately and get back to work. There is little time to waste, men." Everyone scattered, either to do just as they were told or just to get out of Bane's way. Either way, no one wanted to be the next stain on the ground.

With order restored (somewhat), Barsad came forward. "She's a decent fighter, that girl is. Bit rough, but decent enough."

"She works well on instinct." Bane agreed. "Her body is capable; it knows what it must do. Her mind, however, offers much argument."

"That's nearly what the doctor said too." At that, Bane was quickly reminded of the short mission he had sent Barsad and few other competent men on to Arkham Asylum while he had certain obligations to attend to.

"Ah, yes. The Arkham doctor. Jonathon Crane, is it? Or does he prefer Scarecrow?"

"Depends. They keep him in the straitjacket either way." Barsad noted, eliciting a small sound of amusement from Bane. "But he was compliant. Apparently, he doesn't get very many visitors."

"I would imagine so. Still, he was of use to Ra's al Ghul. He should be of use to us. Did he give you what I asked for?"

"Better. He told us where to find it ourselves." Barsad replied, reaching into his thick vest and producing a manila folder that was reasonable filled with paper. "Arkham Asylum has the security system of a daycare center."

"One of Gotham's many blunders." Bane stated as he took the file in his hands and turned it over. He then opened it and began to peruse the pages, his eyes giving off his engagement in what he was reading.

"Crane made one request." Barsad mentioned a few minutes later.

"Did he?" Bane did not look up, hardly thinking that that madman was in any place to make requests.

"He said to take care of his favorite patient."

Bane stopped reading and snapped the file closed, bringing the front cover into the light. There was single label on the flap and it had begun to peel off the page. With his monstrous hand, Bane smoothed the label over until it was stuck on the surface again.

'_Patient #0712: Lucy Rowen Chambers'_

Beneath his mask, Bane smirked. "I will….I will."

**Short, I know. BUT, it does have some plot value in it, I promise. Things are about to get even more stormy for Lucy (as if it already wasn't…I just love making her life difficult!). We finally revisited John Blake and how he was getting along and I kind of liked breaking away from Lucy's perspective in this chapter…I hope that went alright on you all's side. I do not want to rush this story, so I have been trying to find the proper speed for everything (I hope I have…). But long story short…there is more to Lucy than we have seen. We ain't seen nothin' yet…I promise…**

**I was actually planning on uploading this last night, but my internet was not working with me….-.-**

**Anyone else seeing The Purge?**

**Till next time!**


	17. Chapter 17

**Good day, loves! Not much to say beforehand except that I hope y'all enjoy:) There will be more of a note after the chapter is done…till then…Proceed!**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing…sadly, except for Lucy…**

Chapter 17:

"You have to stop flinching, or I'll never get you fixed up properly," Barsad grabbed Lucy by her chin for about the third time and tilted her face up, attempting to tend to her injuries. Most of her bumps and bruises had been wrapped, but Lucy was becoming particularly fidgety as he came to clean and bandage her cuts.

"Bane said it wasn't anything too serious." Lucy muttered, cringing as Barsad wiped an alcohol pad across the cut on her neck.

"It wasn't. But, whatever you were doing since you got up here opened the cut wider and now you're leaking blood all over the place." Barsad chided, tossing the bloodied wipe into a plastic bag. From the first aid kit on his lap, he retrieved a needle appropriated for stitching and began to thread it. "How're you feelin'?"

"Bit rhetorical don't you think?" Lucy retorted. In short, it was stupid question.

For some twisted reason, they all held this conception that she was going to easily comprehend her emotions to them. She silently assured them that almost nothing has changed. _Frustration… Anger… Exhaustion…Doubt…Confusion…_and repeat. Two shameless killings in front of her, still made Lucy feel far from the callous, hardheartedness Bane expected from her. Lucy hardly thought this was what Barsad or Bane wanted to hear.

"Sake of conversation, I suppose." Barsad shrugged, paying more attention on the needle and thread than on Lucy.

Lucy softly sighed and looked away. She pulled her knees up to her chest, resting her head on them. That's when her mind chose to wander, struggling to make sense of what had happened. If she could find it in herself, that source of primal power that had erupted at just the right moment to help her do the things she did, she would explain it to you. But she could never recall a moment in her past where she fought like she did, somewhat adeptly, with hints of desperation. John had tried to teach her some moves some time ago, but those lessons fell on unwilling ears. She was not one for fighting, for hurting, for injuring. Words, rather, were her weapon of choice. But, evidently, she couldn't talk her way out of everything. Somehow, the game wasn't what was changing…she was.

"Goddamnit…" Lucy looked over at Barsad to find him still fiddling with the needle and thread.

Lucy held out her hands to offer her assistance. "Here, let me—"

"I will take over from here, Barsad." At the sight of Bane, Lucy dropped her hands, immediately tucking them away over her bent knees and turned her face away. She didn't want to look at him right now. Her shoulders still throbbed from his bruising hands, a firm reminder that she had angered or frustrated him somehow. However, he called her, in front of nearly all his men, his 'ward', and if he meant it in the way Lucy thought he did...well, she does not know what she would do. As far as she was concerned, it was either she angered Bane enough for him to deem her useless or he just found a greater reason to keep her around.

Neither one was particularly appealing. She'd have to figure out the lesser of those two evils

Beside her, Lucy felt the bed sink. "Look at me, little one."

Taking a deep breath, Lucy reluctantly faced him. She was rather surprised that he was able to thread the needle faster than Barsad, especially considering the size of his hands. Once again, Lucy found herself staring up at water stains on the wall as Bane attended to her neck. He studied her cut for a moment, making Lucy tense up before he even poked her with the needle.

"You have to relax. Otherwise, stitching you up will be a bit more painful than necessary," Bane said, his tone surprisingly light and almost joking.

"Forgive me if I find relaxation not easily achieved…" Lucy muttered through gritted teeth, but relaxing the tensed muscles in her neck anyways.

Bane didn't immediately reply, instead promptly began stitching her up. Lucy felt a short pinch, followed by several others in quick succession and with surprisingly decreasing sting till the needle entering her skin fell numb to her senses. Apparently, Bane was very skilled at stitching wounds together.

"Perhaps, you aren't trying hard enough, my dear," Bane said, as gave a few last tugs on the stitching, then tying off the end and cleanly cutting off the extra string. As he stood up to discard the string and clean up, Lucy shook her head and coldly stared at the ground.

"Trying to what? Enjoy being here. Adapt, as you had put it before, to my surroundings?" She bit out.

"You are catching on well, from what I can see." Bane observed, as he began to wipe his fingers.

"I don't want to."

Bane paused and peered at her from the corner of his eye.

"I…I don't understand what I'm doing here and frankly, I don't want to." Lucy finally blurted out, her voice trembling as her fingers dug into the material of her pants. Her eyes felt hot, a tell-tale signs for tears that she knew she couldn't let go now. "I want to go home. You've kept me here for days, not telling me anything but that I must be 'adaptable'. You've…**killed **people in front of me. I just don't know what you want from me anymore. If you are expecting anything from me, you…you must be mistaken because I can't help you in any way with whatever you are doing down here…I-I have nothing more to offer you."

By the end of her short rant, Lucy found her breathing to be rather ragged, not yet erratic but nearly so, her face warm and faint tremor of nerves flowing through her body. She shut her eyes, knowing she had said too much.

"You are wrong."

That was unexpected.

Bane stared at her for a moment before making his way toward the table littered with files and maps. His hands instantly went to a stack rather familiar to Lucy. Slowly, one by one, he sifted through the tall stack as he began to speak again.

"In the far eastern waters of Asia and Egypt, there is a flower—the Lotus—, you must be acquainted with it, that is considered particularly sacred."

_Flowers…he's talking to me about flowers…_ Lucy thought, resisting the urge to gape at him in bewilderment. _What in God's name…_

"To the Buddhists in Asia, the lotus represents purity, faithfulness, and a spiritual awakening to one's own wisdom and knowledge. To the ancient Egyptians, the lotus represents rebirth, like the sun rising every morning out of the darkest of nights."

Lucy only paid partial attention to this brief history lesson. She was distracted by the fact that he had reached the bottom of the stack and was casually flicking through a lone file. Licking her dry lips, Lucy was bothered about almost having forgotten about that file. _Her file._

"But," Bane continued, drawing her attention back to the strange subject matter, "common knowledge recognizes the lotus for its way of expressing its exquisite beauty amongst its muddy and murky surroundings; its way of blooming in the…most adverse of circumstances."

He intently stared at her, eyes bearing into her and compelling her to heed his words much more seriously. Though Lucy hardly thought flowers were relevant to the situation, she was not out of sorts enough to think he was talking complete drivel.

"Fascinating…" Lucy weakly commented then hesitantly followed up, "But, why?"

"Insecurity is unbefitting of you, my dear," Bane noted, turning his back to her though still minding the brief scowl that crossed her face, "But also for the very reason that you think you have nothing to offer me. Because you believe that since you lack understanding now, that you will not understand later."

"Enlighten me."

With his back turned, Lucy couldn't see the gleam that appeared in his eye. She couldn't see him reach into his coat and produce something new. To Lucy, it merely seemed like he was considering his next words. But as he faced her once more, Lucy couldn't help but find her curiosity piqued again. His hands were hidden behind his back and Lucy suspected that it wasn't for his posture or formality's sake.

"Because," He began, coming closer till he was breaching Lucy's personal space. His shadow brooded over her and Lucy forced herself to crane her neck to look up at him. "Because, Miss Chambers," Lucy went rigid, hardly feeling Bane's fingertips as he tucked her hair behind her ear. "I firmly believe that the flower that blossoms late but in its own misfortune will be the most beautiful and unique."

Her breathing became shallow and Lucy found it hard to look away from Bane. He was making her feel small again. His eyes sparkled unsettlingly, like a cat with a canary in its claws, like he had a damn good secret that he was just itching to share. She searched his eyes for anymore indication of…well anything. But she soon realized that she needn't look there as she felt a small weight rest on top of her lap. Her eyes fell away and down to her lap. She fingered the edges of the files, one of the recognizable and the other not so much, before picking the small, fragile object on top, a half-wilted white lotus.

"These 'lessons', as they have been, were not meant to teach you anything more than what you already know. I really don't have to teach you anything, little one. I only have to show you enough, till you teach yourself…"

Lucy opened her mouth in question, but Bane was already out of the way. Closing her mouth, she licked her lips and swallowed nervously, as she considered his parting words.

_Show me what I already know? What do I already know…_Lucy wondered, her hand inching toward the files.

Lucy touched on the first file. This one, appearance alone, gave Lucy some bad feelings. Part of her mind was telling her to stay away, to throw it into the sewers, to burn it, to return it, to do anything but open it. But far away from the flashing warning signs, her curiosity, her obviously weaker but more demanding state of mind, was begging her to open it.

And so she did…

* * *

When the decent hours of the morning rolled around, John knew it was about time he got out of the apartment. One could say he was in better shape. Granted, he did not necessarily get the sleep he needed, but he had arrived at some form of introspective clarity. In short, he felt decent enough to get back on the job in his proper state of mind. He was supposed to be a detective for God's sakes.

Showered and refreshed, John was ready to make his way to the precinct then the hospital. But upon opening the door, John found a thick envelope taped over the peephole of the front door. His brow wrinkled as he peeled it off the wood and went back inside the apartment to study it properly.

It was a standard sized envelope, made to fit normal sheets of paper. It looked rather thick, like it had a decent amount of paper inside of it. It was also blank, no address, no name or anything. Whoever left this was either trying to be subtle or supremely suspicious. Most votes go to the latter.

Still, John opened it.

Fortunately, nothing exploded nor did anything come flying at his head, so he assumed this was a good sign. He peered into the envelope before turning it over, sending a loose slip of folded paper into his hand.

'_This was all I could get. It should help.'_

Rather ambiguous message. No signature.

John was sure that there must have been a mistake. He didn't recall employing any secret help nor was he expecting something like this to be at his door. By his rough deduction, whatever was in this envelope seemed important and, dare he say it, possibly life-changing. Perhaps this was an over exaggeration, but when was the last time anyone found an anonymously addressed envelope on their door with the parting words, '_This should help'. _

He hastily shook out the rest of the envelope's contents into his hands, eyes quickly raking over the pages, before they widened in what was plainly incomprehension, then recognition. He blinked a few times, his brow furrowed as his thoughts and goals for the day reordered themselves. John roughly pushed all of the papers back into the envelope and all but stormed out of the apartment.

He was just given more pieces to Lucy's puzzle.

As he got into his car, he carefully placed the envelope in the passenger seat and fished his cell phone out of his pocket. As he pulled out onto the street, John quickly dialed Ross's number.

"Blake! What's up?"

"Listen, I got to ask you for another favor." John skipped the pleasantries, attempting to keep his driving at a safe speed as he added. "It's concerning Lucy."

"Of course! What do you need?"

"I need you to look up a case for me."

"Sure, give me a sec," Ross replied. John could hear the sounds of the daily grind of the police station in the background, followed by the sound of someone typing on keyboard. "Alright, what do you need?"

"Double homicide. Took place almost over a decade ago with a family in the Avalon suburbs." John quickly hashed out the details he had glimpsed at from the papers in the envelope.

Ross quickly typed accordingly then waited as the database pulled up any matches. "Ok, seven results for double homicides in the Avalon suburbs concerning families. What else can you give me?"

"Any of them with the name Chambers?" John wasn't surprised about the amount of results. After all, this was back when you couldn't go grocery shopping in broad daylight without fear of being mugged.

"Yeah, one."

"That's it. What does the report say?" John asked, his fingers tapping anxiously on the wheel as he waited at a red light.

"Categorized as a house burglary gone wrong. Victims were Matthew and Elena Chambers, a pair of young, well-to-do parents. Husband died of multiple gunshot wounds while the wife was stabbed to death. There were two reported attackers, one was apprehended while the other one was found with a letter opener in his jugular. Apparently, someone put up a good fight before hand—"

"Ross," John interjected, absorbing the details but not quite hearing what he needed, "You said they were parents. Where was the child? What happened to the child?"

"Oh, right. They had a four year old daughter named Lucy." Something clicked in John's head. "She was asleep in her bedroom at the time of the attack."

John narrowed his eyes at the rather sparse detail, "That's it? What happened to the daughter after the attack? Where did she go?"

"Let me see." Ross said, "Strange…"

"What? What's strange?" John asked, not liking the change of tone.

"The file is missing—"

"Missing? How is that even possible?"

"It's not on the database. Everything on Lucy Chambers has been taken off." Ross explained, not believing it himself.

"And no one has noticed?" John questioned in disbelief. As if he needed more reasons to doubt the police department's credibility.

"Well, there are a lot of reports on here, John, plus, there's no telling how many times the system has crashed before." Ross reasoned.

John huffed in frustration. This could not simply be coincidence. He needed to find the rest of that missing information. It had never occurred to him before how much he really didn't know about Lucy before they became siblings. He's only known her since she was about five or six when she came to the orphanage. What happened between that time and the death of her parents was still a mystery. And why Lucy never mentioned it before.

"John? You still there?" Ross's voice in his ear drew him out of his thoughts.

"Yeah, look, what else does the report tell you aside from what you have already said?"

"Times, one or two witnesses, police officers who worked the case…"

"Who worked the case?" John cut in.

There a beat of quietness, before Ross came back on, "Well, would you look at that. It was one of Commissioner Gordon's early cases."

John wasn't sure whether to be happy or wary of such news. Regardless, it was information he would take. "That's great. Listen, I'm gonna quickly pass by the precinct on my way to the Gotham General. Could you print out whatever you pulled up on the case and meet me out front in ten minutes?"

"Sure." Ross agreed, then hung up.

When Ross came out of the precinct ten minutes later, file in hand, John was becoming the portrait of apprehension and stress, his eyes fixed on the morning traffic while his fingers tapped out a messy rhythm on the steering wheel. He rolled down the window when he saw Ross coming down the front steps.

"Here," Ross handed over the file through the open passenger window. "You said this was about Lucy…is Lucy Chambers…?"

"Same girl, just different name." John concluded.

"Is it going to help you find Lucy? Why did you need all this?" Ross asked, worry lacing his voice for his friend and former partner. It didn't take a genius to see how torn up John was over current events, Ross hardly thought finding out Lucy's parents were murder victims was a good remedy for that.

John shook his head, glancing at the mysterious envelope beside him. "I don't know, Ross. I'm still…figuring it out for myself."

"Alright," Ross replied, "Stay safe, Blake. Call me if you need anything else."

John looked at his friends and gave him a weak, thankful smile and nod of the head. Pulling away from the curb, John sped down the street in the direction of Gotham General.

**Couple of things…**

**Let me first say that I spent a long time berating myself over this chapter because I wasn't sure if I should draw out the plot points any longer, but I figured to just get on with the story and not let you all drown in unnecessary details. There is nothing that I dislike more than a plot that is rushed and one that is too slow. I guessed I arrived at that point in the story where you don't know which one you are breaching on.**

**I realized after reading this that the word file comes up a lot, and as irritating it is for me to have put them there one too many times, I don't think there was any other way for me to convey it.**

**So, Benedict Cumberbatch is a god…love him. If any of you watch BBC's Sherlock, tell me because I will give you infinite hugs. He's part of the reason most of my writing was delayed because I was watching the show on Netflix…**

**Questions for you all: **

**Why do you think I mentioned flowers in this chapter?**

**Who do you think gave John the file (damn it there I go again)?**

**So I can tell you next chapter will not be in Lucy's perspective…**

**Cool? **

**Ok, bye!**


	18. Chapter 18

**So a few things to cover before we start this next chapter:**

**1)Quick apology for being late. I've been in summer school in the last week or so and have found myself running into more accidents than I should be. I was tackled in football, pulled a few muscles, and was hit rather hard in the face with a dodgeball. All of which were not conducive to my writing juices. I should just avoid physical activities…-.-**

**2)My mom happened to get quite sick and had to drop in at the hospital.**

**3)Q&A/replies to reviewers from last chapter:**

**-Regarding the flowers: it was an ode to Batman Begins, however it may or may not come into play later on. I also happened to be watching Mulan that day. So good job to ****Miss Singing in the Rain**

**-Who gave Blake the file? I won't tell y'all.**

**-And SHERLOCK!: GROUP HUG WITH ****MISS SINGING IN THE RAIN**** and ****MAROONSHOES****; can't wait for Season 3!**

**-To ****xxxyangxx2006****: I agreed that it was time for some answers…I can only hope I answered them…**

**4)And finally to all my reviewers: I know I don't thank you all often and so I really just want to take a quick moment to thank you for offering me your support and advice. It brings me great pleasure to be writing for you all**

**Let's move on!**

**I do not own any recognizable characters of the Nolan-verse Dark Knight series.**

**Enjoy!**

Chapter 18:

Commissioner Gordon had just finished taking a small turn about his hospital room to stretch his legs (and get rid of the room's general monotony) when he heard a purposeful knock on his door. He's been here in recovery for weeks now and other than his doctor and nurses, he only knew of one person to be his constant visitor.

"Come in," Gordon called out, making his way back to his bed.

John came in, shutting the door behind him. "Commissioner, aren't you supposed to still be on bed rest?" There was still a bit of a precarious hobble in Gordon's step that didn't escape John's eye.

Gordon grunted, waving his hand in dismissal. "Eh, gotta keep myself moving. I can't let myself be idle for too long. Have something for me today?"

Gordon grimaced slightly as he sat down, his joints creaking in protest. He expected Blake to have brought him more on Dagget or anything on the underground tunnel system at least, but, today was resonating with a different air. Blake was less talkative and was hovering tensely at the foot of the bed, his hand clenched around some files. He seemed beside himself.

"Is everything alright, son?" asked Gordon.

"Fine—uh—just fine, sir." John licked his lips, giving a seemingly reassured nod but his eyes were noncommittal. And Gordon knew a thing or two about eyes. The eyes told everything. "But—um—I actually needed to ask you about…about a case that you dealt with. It was years ago, but I don't know if you would remember it."

Gordon adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose as John handed over said case file. He skimmed the details, seeing it all as the usual double homicide, that is…until he read the victims names. And that was all he needed in order to jog his memory.

"The Chambers case. I wasn't commissioner at the time, but I do…I do remember this case. It was supposed to be a robbery but…" Gordon mused, tapping on the file for emphasis. "Terrible thing to happen to a young, innocent pair like that… It was cases like these that make you think back on why you become a cop in the first place."

John had planned to be rather frank with his questioning, but one look at Gordon's face and he could see that he would just have to take a step back and let Gordon talk. The work-aged man had gained this glazed over, distant look in his eyes, like he was having a montage of flashbacks in his head. So John quietly pulled up a seat beside the bed and just listened.

"There were three bodies. All of which were found in the kitchen." Gordon began, eyes squinted in concentration while his hands were slightly lifted from his lap pointing and gesturing in different directions, as if he were re-visualizing the crime scene.

Truthfully, it surprised John how exceptionally well Gordon could recall the particulars. Lucy had said Gordon was an impressive story teller and John wanted to believe that. But at the moment, all that was reaching John's ears was regurgitation, and then some details that, for good reason, were unnecessary in the original report. His sentences were terse and his pauses were not for simply taking in breaths. And when he finished with an obscure, "and then the case was closed", John wasn't about to let him pass so easily.

In every story, there were things that the narrator withholds and shares, something John knew very well by having Lucy around, and John suspected that Gordon was being a very strategic narrator.

But John couldn't be deprived, not now. Sitting forward on his chair, John carefully urged, "The case mentioned that Mr. and Mrs. Chambers had a little girl. What happened to her?" He knew that there must have been more to this story, otherwise Gordon wouldn't have said he remembered it so well.

Gordon, who had been absently re-reading the file he already knew, looked up at him, answer very clear in his eyes.

_~Flashback~_

_Gordon stood back as the crime scene investigators flooded into the kitchen. The once silent room became a cacophony of voices, camera clicks, and the 'swoosh' of tarps being spread to cover the dead bodies. It quickly occurred to him that he had done all that was really required of him and was probably not needed at the moment, yet he couldn't will himself to leave just yet._

_He remained pressed against the far wall of the kitchen as investigators swarmed by him. The room felt hot and far more uncomfortable than it should have been. There was so much going in the room that Gordon found it hard to follow. It was ordered chaos. If people weren't scattered about taking photos of things, they were on the empty spaces scrubbing for prints, blood spatters or any evidence at all. _

_His eyes fell to the tiled floor, tired. _

_Then they widened._

_There was a piece of some sort of cloth sticking out from underneath the slatted door beside him. Crouching down, Gordon grabbed a closer look at the cloth and quickly realized it was a blanket, with little velveteen rabbits all over it. He stared at it for a moment, head tilted in puzzlement, before it suddenly jerked._

_Gordon staggered back. _

_He sent a glance behind him, everyone still oblivious and otherwise engaged._

_Turning back to the door, he looked down again, thinking, perhaps, his eyes were fooling him. But seconds later, the blanket moved again. _

_Gulping, one of his hands reached for the door handle while his other hovered warily over his gun holster. He didn't know what was behind the door and he purely hoped that it wouldn't require his weapon. After all, a gun has already been used enough in this house to make a sure lasting impression._

_Cautiously, he pulled the door open and light poured into what looked like the pantry. Pre-packaged foods and cans lined the shelves, but Gordon remained focused on the blanket at his feet. He followed the little velveteen rabbits up the length of the cloth till they curled up and around the trembling shoulders of a small child, a little girl. _

"_Oh my God," Gordon slowly crouched down, as a pale, cherubic face looked up at him. _

_Underneath the blanket, Gordon could see she was still dressed in her pajamas. In her hands, she tightly held onto a glass of milk. From that alone, Gordon worked out that she must have come downstairs for a glass of milk in the middle of the night and hid in the pantry when…_

_But, much to Gordon's surprise, she wasn't crying. Rather, her gaze, dark, glassy, and absent, held onto Gordon as he moved into the small space before her. Immediately, she tensed up and began to shy away, pressing herself further into the corner. Gordon scooted back a couple of inches, knowing he'd have to be gentle._

"_Hi there," Gordon spoke softly and calmly, "I'm Sergeant Jim Gordon. Can you tell me your name?" _

_Her brow knitted together and her small mouth twisted into a grimace, as she shook her head, little strands of her black hair falling out of her little plait as she did so. Her fingers began to twitch on the surface of her glass, but it went unnoticed by Gordon._

"_Alright…alright," Gordon muttered, trying to wrack his brain for the other approaches to these situations that were taught at the academy, "How about your age?"_

_Again, she said nothing, but only blinked at him, her mouth still tightly twisted shut. Her little fingers twitched once more, and, this time, Gordon did not miss it._

"_No, nothing…" Gordon said, briefly eyeing her hands, before trying again. "Are you alright, at least?"_

_Before she could answer, another officer took notice of Gordon's hunched figure in the doorway of the pantry. _

"_Hey Gordon, what are you—woah." The officer halted just behind Gordon, realization dawning on him as the little girl came into his view._

_Gordon gave the officer a stern look and lifted his hand, silently telling him to stay back. The sudden appearance of a new face had alarmed the little girl and she had begun to recede towards the corner of the pantry, tugging her blanket tighter around her. Her guard came up and suspicion rose in her eyes._

"_Hey, now," Gordon began, turning back to the little girl. He held his hands out in front of him, showing her that he meant no harm. "Look at me. I promise that nothing is going to hurt you now. I just need you to take my hand so I can get you out of here."_

_There was a moment of silence as she stared at his outstretched hand, deep thought in the child's eyes. Then, with slow hesitance, her small hands peeled away from her now lukewarm glass of milk, set it on the floor, and crawled closer to Gordon. _

_Gordon let her come to him until he felt her small palm in his. A small smile graced his face as she allowed him to gather her close and hoist her up into his arms. He picked up the rest of the blanket and wrapped it over her head while she wrapped her thin arms around his neck, tucking her face into his shoulder. _

_When he turned around, Gordon found that the officer had notified everyone else of the girl in the pantry, and now their former tasks were abandoned in favor of staring. Gordon weaved through the people, taking care to keep a soft hand over the girl's head to keep her looking at him and not the crime scene. They had yet to move the bodies. The last thing she needed to see was blood and her parents' bodies._

_He was almost out of the kitchen when one of the lead investigators stopped him. "What are you doing Gordon? She's probably the only witness we have and—"_

"_And she's a kid." Gordon fixed him with a stony glare, disgusted to find that the only thing he was worried about was the chance of a witness account. "A kid who just watched her parents' murder. At least, let me get her outside and checked by a medic before you start harking at her for a statement."_

_The investigator retreated at Gordon's tone and let him pass by._

_~End of Flashback~_

"After she was checked out by the medics, I drove her back to the precinct so we could see what she could tell us about anything that had happened. Although she was young, her witness statement would help in sentencing the attacker," said Gordon.

"And?"

"She didn't tell us anything," Gordon shook his head, "For the hours we were there, we couldn't get her to tell us anything. Whenever we asked a question, her mouth twisted shut and she gave us nothing but pure silence. She wouldn't talk to any of the officers and I was only luck enough to get something of a nod from her. I didn't know if she couldn't speak or simply wouldn't speak. Regardless, a more capable 'professional' was brought in at that point."

"A professional? Like a…a child psychiatrist?" John offered.

"In a way, yes…" Gordon paused, his tongue unable to smoothly roll out the next piece of information, "It was Jonathan Crane from Arkham."

There was a beat of silence and John felt winded, like he had been bowled over by the new information. "Crane? The Scarecrow? Are you telling me you let a psychopath in the same room as a kid?"

"He was convincing enough at the time and he was the most accessible psychiatrist that didn't ask you for a scheduled appointment." Gordon weakly reasoned, uncomfortable with the idea himself. He was always rather wary of Dr. Crane from the moment he had met him, especially with the way he dealt with all of his criminally insane patients at Arkham. But back then, the justice system hadn't caught him up on anything. Plus, if he wasn't the craziest doctor, he was also one of the most capable, ironically.

John glowered for a moment before he grabbed a hold of some restraint. "So—what happened?"

_~Flashback~_

_In cases that involved children, the precinct had a make-shift playroom that would hopefully put the kids at ease so it was easier to communicate with them. But the problem quickly arose when this appeared to not be the case for four-year old Lucy Chambers (they had learned her basic information after digging through some city records)._

_When Gordon brought her into the room, unlike most children, her eyes did not brighten in the least bit at the toys sprawled about the colorful carpet. Her head remained lowered, her blanket dragging behind her, as she immediately went to sit at the empty drawing table at the corner of the room. She climbed up onto the high seat by herself, crossing her legs Indian-style then rested her small hands in her lap._

_Questioning began. _

_Gordon watched from behind the plexi-glass window as three detectives circulated in and out of the room, each trying to coax something—anything—from the little girl. But not even a peep was given. Gordon felt that it could have conducive of him to warn the others of Lucy's adamant silence, but they were just as equally unyielding in their quest for a statement. _

_With each detective that entered, Gordon saw her retreat back into herself. Not only that, but her hands were doing that twitching or tapping little number again and Gordon was finding it hard to look away._

"_She's not giving us anything to work with. Little thing won't even make a peep. I thought kids liked talking" The door to the room slammed shut as another unsuccessful detective came out. Gordon shook his head, knowing they'd never come to understand her if they were that impatient._

"_Not when they've just watched their parents die." They all turned at the sound of a new voice. _

_At first glance, Jonathan Crane was not a very intimidating man. He was not very tall, nor was he very muscular. But his sharp tailored suit, angular, almost regal, facial features, and piercing, intelligent blue eyes behind a set of glasses, compensated well enough. He had an understated sense of influence about him that didn't go unnoticed by Gordon and the officers._

"_Murder is quite scarring." He finished, a glint appearing in his eyes. _

"_Dr. Crane—we didn't—"One of the officers spluttered as Crane turned his eyes to him._

"_Commissioner Loeb called me in. Apparently, a child witness was proving to be…difficult for you all." Crane said coolly, but one could hear the underlying sneer at their incompetence._

_Gordon and the other detectives bristled, but did not waste energy in scowling, instead putting their effort into explaining the circumstances of the case to Crane. However, to Gordon, it would seem that he was otherwise interested. He had moved awfully close to the viewing window, nose mere inches from the glass as he peered in at the blanketed Lucy, eyes studying and searching. Gordon had half the mind to think that he was already conjuring his own preliminary assumptions of the girl, and he would not be far from wrong. _

"_I can take it from here, detectives." Crane interrupted. He turned away from the window and, ignoring the looks of surprise and doubt, strode to the door of the playroom. But, he paused with his hand on door knob, looking at his watch. "How long do I have?"_

"_As long as you need."_

_The corner of his lips quirked. "Wonderful." _

_As the door had shut on Crane's tail, Lucy's fingers had suddenly come to a standstill and her dark eyes curiously looked up through her eyelashes at the newcomer. Crane skipped any form of hesitance as he took the seat right across from her and placed his briefcase on the floor. He folded his hands atop the table and fixed her with an expectant gaze, waiting as she slightly and slowly lifted her head up to him. Without a word, now that he had her attention, Crane reached down into his briefcase and withdrew several sheets of blank paper and pen, laying them flat across the table._

_Gordon, from behind the window, found it difficult to decipher what method of interviewing Crane was enacting at the moment. Crane knew that Lucy was not going to speak with him, they had told him so, which explains why he hadn't spared any introductions or words for that matter upon entering the room. But why he opted for paper and a pen, instead, remained ambiguous at the moment._

_Just then, Crane picked up the pen and wrote across the page, before sliding it over to Lucy's side of the table. _

_She made no immediate move to pick up the sheet to read it. Instead, with her posture still rigid, she simply raised her head high enough for her to quickly skim Crane's writing. Then, she sat back in her seat, lowering her head down again. _

_For a moment, Gordon thought she had receded back into her shell and worried that there would be little chance of coaxing her out again. But, again, this happened to not be the case for Lucy. It had taken her a few minutes, but once she looked up again, there was a dissipation of wariness in her eyes as she picked up the pen and wrote something down._

_Then, with her small forefinger, she pushed the paper back to Crane._

_There it was. The first sign of response and Gordon and the detectives were at a loss for how they couldn't have done such a thing. But worse, how they wished they could see what was being written and exchanged between the doctor and the little girl._

_Clearly, from the almost self-satisfied twinkle in Crane's eyes, it was quite pleasing. _

_And they went on, back and forth, back and forth, writing and replying, writing and replying, like two trusted correspondents. _

_The writing must have done something for Lucy. Each time she received the paper, her eagerness to read and respond increased by miniscule inches, but noticeable inches. Her posture lost some of its rigidness and the twist of her lips slightly loosened into a neutral thin pressed line. Her hands had stopped its twitching and her eyes seemed only aware of Crane. But if Gordon looked closer, he realized she wasn't really fixated with Crane. She was fixated purely with the writing. For awhile, it seemed that the writing made her comfortable. Soothed her, even._

_But it would not be for long. _

_When Crane passed the paper back to her after an innumerable amount of trades, Gordon saw hesitation suddenly splay itself over her face. Her lips puckered and Gordon guessed that what Crane had written down was rather pressing for the young girl. Her hand drifted over the pen for moment before picking it up and clutching it tightly. As she shifted forward on the edge of her seat, she pushed away the paper they had been writing on, grabbed the stack of blank pages, and started to vigorously scratch on them._

_Concentration was forthright in Lucy's eyes as she wrote, line after line filling the page. But, she didn't show any regard for the concentration Crane seemed to be placing on her. _

_Gordon did, however._

_When Lucy shifted forward to write, so did Crane. As Lucy bent closely over the pages, Crane leant a little too close for comfort. Unlike Lucy, Crane appeared purely fixated on her, not just her writing. Each blink of her eye, each lick of her lip, each falling strand of black hair, each of everything, her being, triggered a small, suspicious smirk to touch Crane's lips. His eyes glittered in a way Gordon thought far from good. They were intense. Calculating. Mischievous. Cold._

_But, Crane is a psychologist. It should be worrisome if he didn't seem so interested in Lucy's demeanor. Still, Gordon couldn't quell his doubt._

_There was a clattering sound as Lucy dropped the pen on the table, making Gordon tear his eyes away from Crane. In front of her, Gordon saw that she had filled two sheets of paper, leaving them densely-worded from margin to margin. Crane drew the papers to him, smirking as if he were reading some great, clever piece of literature. But, Lucy's eyes appeared hooded as she sagged back against her seat, like she shrugged off a weight on her small shoulders, like she was somewhat at ease. _

_Pushing his glasses up on his nose, Crane quickly gathered the papers into a neat stack, with the ones Lucy wrote on top. Then, steepling his hands before his face, he fixed his eyes back on Lucy, something of silent meaning under his blue eyes. She, in turn, placed her arms flat on the table, rested her chin upon them, and stared back at Crane with understanding._

_Then, with the papers in one hand and his briefcase in the other, Crane got up and left the room. Gordon was the first to meet him._

"_What's this?" Gordon asked, as Crane thrust the paper's Lucy had written into his hands and the other sheets into the crook of his elbow._

"_That is your statement," said Crane._

_Before Gordon had a chance to look at said statement, one of the more unconvinced detectives took it from him. "You got her to write out a full statement? You didn't even say a word to her."_

"_I didn't have to, detective." Crane smugly replied. "You told me she wouldn't speak, so I didn't waste my words. Children are easily malleable by situations and circumstances and often find it difficult to return to normalcy. In Lucy's case, the trauma she sustained from forcing herself to stay silent and hidden away while her parents were murdered compelled her to cope and translate herself in the only other immediate way she knows—writing."_

"_Hand me those for a moment," Crane waited till the statement papers made it back to him. "What's quite interesting about this, however, is how she wrote this."_

"_It resembles a short story, by structure. But the perspective in which the scene is described is done is strictly third person."_

"_So?"_

"_So," Crane continued indignantly, as if he were speaking to a child, "While most children try to forget what they have seen, Lucy simply detached herself from the experience almost entirely. Yes, she can actively recall the details of the scene, so you don't have to worry about that, but Lucy has made it so her parents' murder is nothing but another make-believe tale. You would think that a young girl would have a more sentimental view of what has happened to her own family, let alone have the skill to produce something like this in maybe less than an hour. She's sensitive, yet something else entirely."_

_As he said this, Crane's gaze dragged itself back toward the viewing window. Gordon and the rest of the detectives, who found his explanation far too hard to deem unnecessary, slowly followed his lead. _

_Inside, Lucy sat with her head still resting on top of her flattened arms, eyes wide and seemingly lighter, while her legs were lightly kicking back and forth off the edge of the seat. She still resembled the look of childish naivety. But, now, there was question in that fact._

"_This'll be an interesting one for CPS, then." Gordon muttered._

"_CPS?" Crane turned to Gordon. _

"_Yes, they were unable to find any living relatives to take care of her, so she'll be put into either foster care or an orphanage," explained Gordon. When they had looked Lucy up in the city records, they made the discovery that both of her parents were only children and the grandparents were deceased. In other, unfortunate words, Lucy had no other family left. "Why, is there a problem, doctor?"_

_Crane straightened up, evening out his voice. "No, I was going to suggest having her brought to Arkham for further psychological study before she is brought in the presence of strangers and other children."_

_Wariness suddenly raced to the forefront of Gordon's mind and he resisted the urge to narrow his eyes at the doctor. "Unfortunately, Dr. Crane that is something that you will have to leave in the hands of child services or Lucy's guardians."_

_Crane pursed his lips, looking particularly disgruntled. "Very well."_

_Then, with one last glance back at Lucy, Dr. Crane brusquely turned on his heel and left the precinct, something shifty in his wake._

_~End of Flashback~_

John rubbed his hand over his slightly stubbly chin as he listened to Gordon. His brow was knitted together in a mix of apprehension and deep thought. This was still only part of the story. There was a chunk of time between the murder and the time she made it to the orphanage that he still didn't know about. It was almost difficult for his mind to comprehend that the little girl Gordon was talking about is the same Lucy he knew—knows. But once he heard about her astute sense of writing, John couldn't think otherwise.

And that worried him.

Gordon suddenly coughed, his voice hoarse from his ceaseless talking. He leaned over to grab a glass of water on his side table, but came up short, grunting as he felt a pain in his abdomen.

John fell out of his reverie and handed the glass to Gordon. He took a few deep drinks before handing it back to John, who put it back on the table.

Gordon cleared his throat, thanking him and settling back down. "Now, where was I?"

John sat down and reminded him, "CPS."

"Ah, yes. Soon after, CPS took custody of Lucy. They were able to find her a foster home willing to take her in."

'Did they know about…well, about what Crane had suggested?" John was far from thinking Lucy Blake was mentally unstable. But four-year old Lucy Chambers was different.

"The foster parents were aware of her—_mental sensitivity_. And although they had never had someone of her situation before, they assured us that she was in good hands."

"Was she?" John asked. "Do you believe she was in good hands?"

Gordon sighed. "For the first few months, there were no obvious problems. Lucy was—I think the word they used was—agreeable. She got up out when she needed to, clothed and cleaned up after herself, ate properly; the only thing they couldn't get her to do was speak or play with any of the other children. She found coloring books and books in general a whole lot more entertaining, apparently."

_Sounds like Lucy._ John thought, weakly smiling to himself. "So, where was the problem?"

"One day, child services got a call that Lucy had—more or less—attacked another one of the children. They claimed that she pushed an older boy down the stairs, granted, though, no one was actually around to see it happen. The boy, who was uninjured for the most part, said that she pushed him because he took her coloring book from her, saying that he was just being curious and she wouldn't share with him. He didn't think that she would snap at that."

"But she wasn't inclined to violent reactions before."

"Exactly. Regardless, CPS was notified and a closer eye was kept. They took a look inside those coloring books of hers and—"

"Let me guess…There wasn't any coloring in it was there?" John predicted.

"No, there wasn't. Lucy had been keeping a journal of some sort. The entries were, in their opinion, disturbing to say the least, and Lucy became less of an innocent child in their eyes. She was taken to a few children psychiatrist but in short, it was like she had reverted to the day her parents' died."

"She didn't want to talk to them." John knew who she would talk to though. But he couldn't bring himself to say it yet.

Gordon slowly nodded. "You see, I believe that Lucy merely tolerated her foster family. She knew they were there, she saw them, but did not truly acknowledge them. She was a picky child and there was only one other person we knew who could communicate with her again."

"Crane." John uttered coldly.

"Unfortunately." Gordon ruefully confirmed. "So, once a week for almost a year, she was taken up to Arkham for a private two hour session with Crane. Apparently the sessions were a success. We were told that she was reportedly less tense and managed to say a few words here and there. However, when they said 'less tense', we didn't know that they meant increasingly lethargic and drowsy, and when she would speak, it would be mindless muttering."

"They were lying to you and child services?"

"Not lying. I never thought Lucy wasn't in good hands with those people. They were decent foster parents. But they were not right to care for her simply because they truly didn't understand how to take care of Lucy. So they were incapable of gauging her demeanor properly."

"Are you saying you were?" John blurted out. He hadn't meant for it to come out slighting. But he was sitting here listening to the more or less striking back story of someone who meant so much to him and who he thought he knew. It was practically a comment on his disposition as a surrogate brother.

"Of course I'm not, Blake. But I am a police officer, it's in our nature to act somewhat presumptuous."

"I know it is." John muttered, again hearing Lucy's voice in his ear, telling him the exact same thing. There was a slight burning sensation in the back of his eyes and he immediately shut them, pushing his palms into his eye sockets. He was feeling overwhelmed and the floodgates were about ready to go.

"Blake," Gordon asked gently, "Why did you come and ask me about this case?"

It took John a moment to collect himself. He pressed his hands against his face and wiped them downwards, smudging away any hints of hot tears. Then he cleared his throat and finally said, "Because Lucy Chambers is Lucy Blake, my sister. And a few days ago, she was kidnapped by Bane."

Gordon suppressed a gasp for Blake's sake and quickly dabbed at his sweaty forehead. This case was already as dynamic, perhaps even more, as he made it out to be. But years later, and suddenly, there's more? Gordon had brought it on himself to try and stay with that case till its close, till that little girl was safe. He chastised himself for not knowing better. He chastised himself for not staying true to his promise, even if never had the chance. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It's my problem. I couldn't—"

"Oh, don't spew that bullshit, Blake." Gordon in a suddenly revived authoritative tone that made John sit a little straighter. "It's not only your problem. Not anymore. Now, tell me what's happened?"

The feeling of discomfort was only a faint buzz in John's ear as he found himself re-telling his fruitless adventures of looking for his missing sister. It was surprisingly easier for some reason to tell this Gordon. There was genuine concern and interest in Gordon's eyes and that was a comfort to John. To know that someone who cares just as much for Lucy as he did took away from lingering loneliness.

"I came here after this appeared on my front door." John showed him the mysterious file had led him to a vat full of questions.

Gordon took a glance inside. "And you don't know who sent this?"

"No clue. Who would send this to me?" John said out loud.

"Better yet, why did they send it at all?" Gordon offered.

This prompted both of them into a silence, both men honing into their detective skills. True, it was important to know who sent it. But Gordon was right to question the motive. The fact was that Lucy was missing, but how would a mysterious file leading to Gordon help in finding Lucy. Usually, you needed current evidence in missing persons' case. Yes, background would help, especially in finding possible kidnappers in people the victim has come in contact with. But Crane was and still is locked up in Arkham, the foster parents hadn't been involved in Lucy's life for years, and John said it himself that he knew Bane had taken her.

John masked his twisting nerves in an agonizingly deep breath. Then he turned to Gordon, realizing something. "Commissioner, you never did tell me what the significance in Lucy's behavioral change after her therapy sessions was."

Gordon, who had been staring thoughtfully out of the window, dropped his eyes to his hands in his lap. With his lips pursed, he replied, "They found bruises on her arms—sit down, Blake, I'm not done."

John had shot up from his seat, hands fisted at his sides and his jaw tensed, as soon as the word 'bruises' reached his ears. The brunt of burning anger swept through him, as the very thought of Lucy's problems became something more physically marring. And what was worse, was the lingering the idea that it was all out of his control. That was the only thing that kept him from fully lashing out. Taking a deep breath, he exercised his restraint and obeyed Gordon.

"These were not your typical bruises. These were small, concentrated bruises from multiple injection sites."

John let this sink in and the wrinkle in his brow deepened. It wasn't as if he was already given a lot to absorb today. "Crane was administering medical injections to Lucy without legal permission."

Gordon nodded in the affirmative. "They immediately removed Lucy from his care and brought up charges against him. But, for reasons we can only guess, they never went to court and it remains a moot case. The foster family decided they didn't want Lucy back with them and Lucy was then transferred to an orphanage."

"St. Cecilia's. That's where I first met her. I wouldn't have thought that…" John trailed off, a lump in his throat as he recalled that meeting from years ago. "Did you know what he was injecting her with? Was he forcing the injections, though?"

"I can't recall. That escapes me. Shouldn't it say in the report, though?"

"Lucy's files are missing from police records. Someone's taken it." John revealed.

"Who would have…Bane?"

"Likely. Question is—why?" John left the question at that, before mumbling to himself, "Just when I think it's enough, it isn't."

Little did John know that it was enough.

* * *

"Sir," Bane peered out the corner of his eye as Barsad came to him. After leaving Lucy, he had retired to an upper level tunnel where he was able to keep an eye on Lucy from afar, but she couldn't see him, even if she looked. Though Bane knew she wouldn't. She was busy with something else.

"You have something you wish to ask me, Barsad." Bane stated.

Barsad knew he couldn't get anything past him. "Is there a real reason behind keeping Miss Blake here?"

Bane let out a deep, thoughtful breath. "Do you doubt me, Barsad?

"Not at all, sir." Barsad knew what he had gotten himself into from the very beginning. He never doubted Bane. But he had questions and so did others. "But some of the men are worried—"

"Their concern should not be on Lucy." Bane interjected.

"Talia worries."

Bane stilled and the guarded looks in his eyes fell for a moment before he hardened himself again, turning his back to Barsad. "When our mission is completed, the League must remain standing even if we do not."

"The League? In the hands of a teenage girl?" Barsad could hardly hide his disbelief.

"The League in the hands of perhaps the most versatile young mind I have ever come in contact with. At first, I admit, what interested me was her journal. But she has come to prove herself as worthy of an even greater purpose. Even if she doesn't know it."

"Even if she doesn't want it?"

"Ah, yes, Lucy has built strong walls in her mind," Bane recognized, "But her potential has nearly been tapped—her cleverness, resilient intelligence, idealism for good, her sturdy moral compass, and not to mention, her natural instincts for defending herself. She is quiet, understated, and unseen. No one would ever suspect her. Yes, yes Lucy Blake will prove to be most advantageous to us. All she needs is a bit more of a push," Bane finished, seriousness bleeding through his tone.

"And those files you had us take from Arkham and the police department," Barsad said knowingly.

Bane must have smiled beneath his mask because his eyes began to fill with glee, "The push, Barsad. Then we step in."

**WHEW!**

**That was a lot let me tell you. Nearly twenty pages on Microsoft word.**

**Anyways, I know some of you are going to wonder why I didn't go into depth about Lucy's time in Arkham, but let me remind you that neither Gordon nor anyone for that matter never saw or heard what really went on in the sessions. So the only people who really know are out of reach.**

**Anyways, hope this was enough for you guys. Most of it I am happy with, some of it 'meh'. But either way, your opinions matter too!**

**So that's why you should visit that review box…Please?**

**Until next time! **

**Bye Loves!**


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